


Alone on the Planet

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Series: Shallow Valley [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Burns, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy Friendship, Clarke whump, F/M, Hurt Clarke Griffin, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, No Madi, Pantherkru, Past Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Post-Season/Series 04, Protective Bellamy Blake, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts, Team Cockroach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 86,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: With Clarke the only person alive on the surface of the earth, she has time to slowly lose her mind. The only thing grounding her? The radio that she isn't aware is working.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Series: Shallow Valley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893508
Comments: 471
Kudos: 498





	1. Alone

_‘I bear it, so they don’t have to.’_

At first, it burnt. Every inch of skin, even the bits wrapped under layers of fabric, they caught the flare and scorched everything. Most would call it a miracle that she rose her head from the sand, fingers digging into the burning ground beneath. It was not a miracle.

Clarke was in Hell. Her own personal version of it, based on the fact that she had let her people down one too many times. The list was endless, the amount of people that she couldn’t quite save, the ones that needed her help. Whether it was those from Space, or the Grounders, or the Reapers and the Mountain men and the endless lists of people that had gone up against her, yet Clarke always came out on the other side.

She deserved to burn. She deserved the agony of being the only human on the Earth’s surface, the only one that could ever walk across the sand and not die. It was fate, and it was why she stayed alive. The fabric itched at her burnt skin, blisters over almost every inch of her body. Sand that got into the wounds, that infected her and became fatal, apart from fate drawing her back in one more time.

The Commander of Death, who had nobody left to kill. The others were trapped in a Bunker, or high up in Space, and that left Clarke to see the Demons she had made.

It was Finn, who visited her first. Who watched as she dragged herself through the sand, trying to hold onto her life like it was worth saving. Then it was Lexa, who cradled her burnt hands and whispered apologies, that told her to keep fighting. Maya, who stood there quietly and watched as the radiation affected Clarke, a silent look of understanding that the Commander of Death hated.

Jasper was the one that stood by her side as she rose the gun, pressed it against her temple and waited to pull the trigger. He vanished the moment the bird appeared, as Clarke scrambled up and clung to the last piece of hope.

The Valley was supposed to be a blessing. Fresh water, foods that she could eat. The homes gave her a place to work from, a base that she could begin to craft. She began to plant foods, to clean out the homes and to get them ready for those up in space.

But this was Clarke’s hell, and so not everything could be good. She would sit on the floor of the church, would pick up the radio and stare at it, knowing they could not hear her. Knowing that, no matter how hard she hoped, they would not be able to come down and save her.

**

Raven missed Clarke. She was the one that would have been able to snap them out of their moods, that would have cheered them up despite the fact they were facing five years up in space. She would have complimented Monty’s algae farm, or remarked on how well Echo and Emori’s training was coming along. She’d have convinced Murphy and Bellamy to stop getting on each other’s nerves, would have sat them all down and convinced them they survived so that they could continue onwards.

She had very little to do, other than try to establish a connection with the ground. For the first three months, she worked tirelessly, waiting to see if they could make contact with the Bunker. Every day, Bellamy would come in, needing to know that it had been worth it. That his sister was safe, even if Clarke wasn’t.

After three months, Bellamy stopped asking if she’d managed to get through to them. The grief hadn't faded, least of all from Bellamy, and Raven couldn’t bear to see how sad he had become. How much he missed Clarke, wished he had been able to say goodbye.

Today was no different than any other. Raven sat at her desk, continued to try and rewire the system so it would pick up on weaker signals. It was a job that ended with her fingers usually being burned, or sparks attacking her face. Not that it really mattered anymore, she’d faced far worse than anything this ship could throw at them.

The normal static had become a familiar sound in her room, echoing off the walls and providing her with the knowledge that she still hadn't succeeded. That they might have done all of this for nothing. Not even Harper came into this room anymore, it was a reminder to them all that they were so very far away from all those they had left behind.

She couldn’t keep doing this. Running a hand through her hair, she slumped back into the chair, turned away from the desk and moved towards the window. Down below, the scorched planet remained, proof of what had happened to them since they first landed. She should have been grateful that they were alive, but instead her gut tightened, a feeling that happened whenever she thought of the Bunker.

 _‘… s’time, a-… Bell…’_ For a moment, Raven froze. She looked back over her shoulder, eyeing up the radio and the tiny red light on the side, before the crackling cleared once more.

 _‘G-n, sun. N’…’_ The chair almost didn’t catch her as she lunged, fingers reaching for the dial and her other hand to the screen, ready to pinpoint the location of the signal. A moment later, the dot solidified on the map, just south of where Polis had been.

‘Hello? Can you hear me? Is anybody there?’ Crackling for a moment, before the voice returned.

 _‘… grass is growing, which is nice. Better than nothing.’_ That voice, she’d know it anywhere. Clarke.

‘Clarke! Clarke, can you hear me? It’s Raven!’

‘ _The sun’s shining today. I think it’s getting warmer.’_ Raven didn’t have time to care that Clarke couldn’t hear her, because she was still caught up on the fact that they had a connection to the ground. That Clarke was _alive_.

‘Harper!’ She called, knowing the girl would be the closest. Sure enough, a few moments later, the door opened.

‘Raven?’ The girl looked from her, to the radio that the mechanic cradled like it would save them all.

‘Get the others. It’s Clarke.’

**

‘I think it’s getting warmer.’ Clarke told the radio, before pausing for a while. Shallow Valley was a beautiful place, compared to the outer regions. The water was pure, didn’t taste of the grainy sand that had been her nutrition before she had found this haven of life. Not many animals had survived, and those that did usually stayed well away from her. The fish were the only things that she could catch successfully, but she felt harsh doing so. They had survived, despite the odds. It was only fair that she gave them the credit they deserved.

‘I hope you’re all doing alright up there, in Space. It must be nicer than here.’ She kicked a loose stone, moving towards the perimeter of the Valley.

‘I suppose I should try and find Polis. It might give me something to do.’ She’d only been here for three months, ninety-eight days, but she’d already mapped out the entirety of the Shallow Valley. From the stream that ran through the centre, to the Village that hosted her. The forest that spread out below, the open meadow that hosted the majority of the living animals. The border regions, scrubland along the rocky patches, before it returned to a barren wasteland.

‘I just… I’m scared. It sounds stupid, considering I’m the only one alive.’ It was stupid. She shouldn’t be so afraid of the sand, but all she could remember was the blazing inferno that she’d left behind. The pain of burning with every step, of her skin bubbling while the fire raged.

‘Maybe alive is the wrong term. I wouldn’t say I’m living. Surviving. Just like the planet.’ Clarke made it to the high-point, stared out across her Valley and then back to the jeep.

‘It’s just sand. There’s nothing to fear out there, not anymore.’ Whether she was trying to comfort herself or the radio, she wasn’t sure. Deep down, she knew the radio was her only link to those in Space, she knew they couldn’t really hear her.

‘I’ll call tomorrow. As always. Stay safe.’ She abandoned the radio, clipped it back to her pack and then looked to the jeep.

It was time to find Polis.


	2. Praimfaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's not doing well in the sand, nor when she discovers the remains of Polis

Raven slipped into the room, then paused at the sight. Bellamy was curled up on the floor, Harper’s jacket over his shoulders as he slept with the radio by his side. Ever since they had heard Clarke’s voice, since she had told them she would call tomorrow, Bellamy hadn't left the radio. Murphy had brought him dinner last night, the tray was by his side, but it was clear Bellamy hadn't eaten much of the algae-farm food.

‘He hasn’t moved.’ Harper whispered, Raven settling by her side. Emori rose her head from where she was reading, looked down to the leader of the group. They had all been feeling guilty over Clarke, so the moment they got to hear her voice, it had been the piece of hope they needed. Murphy’s mood had vanished, calling her a cockroach like him, unable to die. Emori had cheered right up, even after the incident that almost happened with the Nightblood.

‘Did you really expect him to?’ Echo pointed out from where she stood on guard. She had settled into the group well, and Raven suspected that she harboured guilty feelings just as the rest of them did over Clarke’s supposed death.

‘Do you really think she’ll be okay?’ Harper asked, which sobered the mood. Raven looked to where Bellamy was slumped, wondered if he’d ever be alright if he didn’t have the rest of them. Clarke was on her own, in a world that sounded like it had been uninhabited. They had five years to wait until they could join her.

‘She’s Clarke.’ Raven said firmly, like it answered everything.

**

 _Praimfaya_ had done a terrible number on the planet, Clarke thought. She bent down and touched the sand, dug it away slightly to see if evidence of life survived. It had been a river bed, according to the maps, yet nothing survived now. No evidence of water, let alone plants that previously covered the space. When the sun’s rays became too hot to stand, she returned back to the jeep and slid behind the wheel. Her water bottle was half-empty, but she had brought a container with her to make sure she had enough to keep going until they reached Polis.

The drive continued, over the baked land using the sun as navigation, until the light began to dim and she drew the truck to a halt. There was no need to park, no need to stay awake to protect herself from an attack. Nothing could survive this place, no predators and certainly no people. It meant that she could sleep unburdened, although the nightmares didn’t always listen to such a rule.

Gripping the radio, she climbed out of the cab and onto the jeep’s front, eyeing up the bugs on the grill.

‘Evening _Spacekru_. Or whatever time it is in orbit. I’ve made it what I think is half-way to Polis.’ She paused at that, memories of Polis always came at the most inopportune moment.

‘I never thought I’d think of Polis as a place of hope, not after Lexa died.’ She didn’t mention her former love, had refused to acknowledge what had happened. What Murphy had witnessed, Clarke losing the love of her life.

‘I guess I should take the time to apologise, Murphy. I should never have but Emori in that situation, I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.’ Thoughts of what had happened in the lab had her falling quiet. She’d been so ready to harm Emori, to risk her life. That wouldn’t happen anymore, she refused to stoop to the same level she had been at when pulling the lever at Mount Weather.

‘Anyway, sorry. Maybe the sands affecting me badly, I was happy in the Valley. Well, happier.’ The sands had been where Clarke pressed a gun to her temple, ready to give up on the world. Ready to accept her fate.

‘I’ll keep you informed on Polis.’ She clicked the radio off, returned it back to its holder and got back into the jeep.

**

It took a long while for her to work up the courage to pick the radio back up. It was at least four day cycles since she had last radioed, but she had needed the time to scream herself raw. Her throat ached, her hands still shook from the fear of being alone. She took another moment to compose herself, before finally reaching for the radio.

‘Hi.’ Her voice was rough, she rarely used it now unless she was speaking to the Spacekru. Not that they could hear her, it was more to regain some sanity.

‘Sorry I missed some days.’ Clarke dug her nails down into her thighs, felt the blistered skin split under her touch. It wasn’t enough, nowhere near the pain she needed to feel alive.

‘Polis… It’s not good news. It’ll take me years to move all that rubble. I guess I’m stuck out here.’ When she had spotted the devastation, her heart broke. There was no way she was getting under there, not without a lot of help.

‘It’s only five years. I can do that by myself.’ The radio really had become the thing she relied upon, the thing that kept her mind in check. Because right now, the gun at her side looked more tempting than it ever had before.

‘I was kept in isolation, up on the Ark. It’s like that all over again.’ That was a lie, because at least then she hadn't been injured. She hadn't seen the very worst of humanity, and been forced to remember it.

‘Who am I kidding, this radio doesn’t even work.’ It clicked off, leaving Clarke to stare over the destruction.

**

Echo was on Clarke watch, keeping an eye on the radio. Listening to her, she could understand where Clarke’s head was at. In fact, the Grounder was concerned that the Leader was not quite in her right mind. She’d urged Raven to hurry up on connecting them, and the mechanic hadn't argued.

‘She needs us.’ She hadn't heard Murphy approach, proof enough that she was beginning to falter with her training. Another person that was beginning to grow on her, despite his carefree attitude. He pretended her loved nobody but Emori, but Echo could see through that.

‘I know.’ Echo didn’t really understand. She had always benefited from hiding behind a Leader. She had heard of Clarke long before she met her, Wanheda. The Commander of Death, the woman that nobody could beat.

‘She’ll put a gun to her temple.’ Murphy said it with such conviction, that she knew he was telling the truth. Echo had heard the conversation a while ago, when Clarke apologised to Murphy for using the woman he loved.

Lexa, Heda of the Alliance and formally of Trikru. The lover of Clarke, according to the rumours that had spread. Echo had lost a lover before, although never one that she allowed to get so close.

‘We can’t go down yet.’ Echo said firmly, watched as Murphy rolled his eyes.

‘Clarke can’t survive by herself. Without us, there’s nothing to keep away the bad.’

**

The Commander of Death took another step over the sand, wearing very little of her clothing. The sun had set, leaving her to look out across the desert and let her toes dig into the ground. Alone, with nothing but the moon and stars to guide her. Clarke had been alone before, but never had she realised that she deserved it.

‘I should have burnt.’ Maybe she had. The Commander glanced to her arms, to the skin that was marred and would take years to heal. Burning alive was nothing like she thought it would be, and she wondered if it was what the others had felt. The three-hundred grounders she’d burnt, or the citizens of the Mountain when she’d pulled the lever.

‘I’m a virus.’ She whispered, sinking down to her knees and stretching her hands out in the sand.

‘Infecting everyone, until they get hurt.’ Or worse, dead.

At least this way, she couldn’t hurt anyone but herself.

What would happen to the Commander of Death, when everyone was already gone? Who was there left to kill?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments last chapter! :)


	3. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's celebrating her friends' birthdays

‘Happy birthday Harper!’ Clarke clapped her hands together before looking to the meal she had made for her friend. Well, she hoped they could be friends. After everything they had been through, she was determined to work better on her relationships within the group.

‘You can’t see it, but I’ve made you some food. I didn’t have much, just some berries and nuts that I’ve managed to collect, but I got you a present to make up for it.’ Clarke abandoned the plate with the scraps of food she had prepared, turning to the rest of the room. This one was for Harper and Monty, designed with them in mind.

‘I drew you a dolphin, like the ones from the books on the Ark you told me about.’ She wasn’t really sure why she continued to speak to a girl that couldn’t hear her, not when she wasn’t even sure if today was the right day. Her sense of time was dictated by the knife she used to carve into the wall to count the days.

‘It’s on the wall of your room, ready for when you come down.’ She dared to sneak a hand out to snatch a berry from the plate, munched on it quietly while looking around the room.

‘I hope you have a good day.’

**

‘Happy Birthday to my favourite Mechanic! Another year older, not that you’d like me for reminding you of that fact.’ Clarke dozed under the sunlight, staring at the fluffy clouds that stretched out across the horizon.

‘Knowing you, you’re probably busy building something. Take a break, Raven. Eat some algae-based food. It’s better than the meal I made you!’ She turned her head to the plate, to the dwindling supply of berries that she had collected. Winter had made it hard to collect such things, and she had very little stored.

‘Your gift was a Raven. Or at least it’s a bird of some sort, I’ve managed to tame it. It’s eating most of my food if I’m honest.’ Clarke regarded the bird that was currently perched on a branch. It had broken its wing, that was how she found it, and Clarke couldn’t bring herself to kill it. Instead, she’d fed it and watched as it recovered, with help from the splint she made. Now, it had taken to following her, knowing she would feed it. More than she ate in a day, usually.

‘I miss you. I just know that you’d have a solution to the issue at Polis, you’re smarter than me. Less likely to let our friends down.’ She froze, watched as the sky slowly darkened. How long had she been talking to the radio?

‘I’m sorry about Finn, Raven. I really am.’ And with that, Clarke clicked off the radio and returned to feeding her new friend.

**

‘Monty! Another year older! I guess I should say congratulations, it’s a miracle we’ve all survived this long.’ Clarke kept her hands pressed together, stretched her leg outwards as she focused on the target.

‘Your gift is in your room. It’s a rock. I carved it myself.’ She swung quickly, hand striking the target as she shifted her balance, then swung around to duck the oncoming board. It was a dummy-target, created with wood and stone and pieces of fabric that she used to bind it together. A good routine had formed, using it to train.

‘I guess that spoiled the surprise. Sorry. I just don’t get to talk much anymore.’ Panting out the words, she eyed up the damage she’d done. Not that much, not compared to her bleeding knuckles.

‘Am I still talking English? I forget, sometimes.’ Another hit, grunting in pain as the dummy swung and returned the blow before she could dodge it. Spikes embedded into her thigh, the girl stumbling away and admiring the black blood that was left behind.

‘Have a good birthday. Take some time away from the algae-farm. You deserve it.’

**

‘I realised that I didn’t know when your birthdays are, Emori and Echo.’ The last person alive admired the stream beneath her feet, let the water rush over the marked skin.

‘Lexa once told me that birthdays aren’t quite as celebrated as traditions on the Ark.’ The mention of the dead-commander had Clarke searching the clearing for her, disappointed when she didn’t appear. Sometimes, when Clarke hadn't quite eaten enough food, she could almost hear her lover’s voice.

‘So I’ve decided today is your celebratory birthday! Emori, your gift first. It’s in you and Murphy’s room, it’s a new jacket. I’ve been practicing my stitching.’ She moved to kneel in the shingle, let her hands reach out and the cool water to travel over them.

‘Echo, I got you a sword. Well, I found a rusty piece of metal in the wreckage of Polis, and cleaned it up for you. Maybe when you get down here, you could teach me?’ She studied her reflection, tried to remember if she’d always been this skinny.

‘I’ve not got any food left, otherwise I’d make you a meal. I’m saving up, for when you guys get back.’ The creak was the only source of sound, along with the faint rustling of the leaves. She hadn't been here in a while, not since she’d met one of the large predators that remained in the Valley. A panther, with gleaming eyes and sharp teeth. Luckily, they’d agreed on a mutual understanding that the Valley was plenty big enough for the two of them. She stuck to fish and hares, the Panther went for the deer in the meadows.

‘Lexa knew you, Echo. Or at least, she spoke of you to me. The previous Commander sent a spy to infiltrate the Ice Nation. She spoke of what the Queen did to you, to your friend.’ Clarke paused, stood up straight and thought to the assassin.

‘I’m glad they’ve got you.’

**

‘Murphy, today’s your birthday! I know you’re going to be annoyed that I know the date,’ Clarke froze, looked to the stormy sky above her, then back to the dummy she was practicing throwing knives at.

‘But you deserve a good birthday. I even managed to catch a fish for you.’ She eyed up the dodgy looking creature that was currently roasting over a fire that would no doubt be put out when the rain started.

‘It’s a little bit messed up from _Praimfaya_ , though. I wouldn’t eat it if I were you, nothing good survived the radiation.’ Ironic, because she had survived it. But then again, she wasn’t good. They had concluded that, again and again. Clarke was the bad guy.

‘You’d hate me for saying this, but I really am glad you’re my friend, Murphy.’ She went to retrieve her daggers, pulled them out of the target and then looked to the bird that was still hoping around. For a moment, her entire mind went blank. There was nothing left, a vague blur in her mind, a fog that lifted.

The bird sat dead, a dagger straight through it.

‘Would you do me a favour? Apologise to Raven, I killed her bird. It... It was an accident. I guess even animals die around me.’ The Commander of Death laughed coldly, slumping down to the ground and turning to the radio.

‘I get why you almost did it, Murphy. I just don’t think I’m brave enough.’

**

‘Happy birthday Bellamy.’ Clarke said the words, then fell silent. The storm had done damage to her Village, and she’d been working to repair it tirelessly over the weeks following the incident. It had taken too much time, time she should have been using trying to get to Polis. She couldn’t keep doing this, repairing every time she messed up.

‘The food supplies are gone. The houses… they don’t look great.’ She eyed up the Church, the building that best survived.

‘The rain still burns. It burned through the wood, I think I might be able to use it if I can get back to the lab.’ Clarke cleared her throat, stretching out and focusing back on the radio.

‘Sorry. It’s your birthday, you don’t want to listen to me moping. I got you a gift.’ She reached across to pick it up, the sketchbook that was quickly running out of paper. She’d been stealing for the most part, taking things from the village.

‘I drew you and Octavia. I figured the two of you deserved something to keep you going.’ Clarke eyed up her drawing, then returned it back to the floor and smiled to the radio.

‘I wish I could be there with you. Just to say happy birthday, to see you smile like you used to before… everything. Before the Grounders and Mount Weather and the chips.’

‘I hope I live long enough to tell you how sorry I am.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too sad? More sadness?


	4. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke tells the radio about Polis, about the lab, and finally finds a friend

‘I honestly don’t know if I managed to get the power on.’ Clarke took a break from her hard work, slumping over one of the rocks and wishing that she had brought a piece of fabric to make a tent. With just her jacket, she wasn’t going to have much luck shielding herself from the sun.

‘The signal cut out. I could be talking to a bunch of dead people.’ Even if she laughed after those words, it left a hollow ache in her chest to think about it. If they hadn't made it, then all of this was a waste of time. Because if they hadn't survived, then Clarke didn’t deserve to either.

‘I got down from the tower, made it back to the lab. That’s when I fell, cracking the glass. I’m pretty sure my face will forever be scarred from that.’ She rose a tentative hand to the healing wounds from the radiation, marvelled at the way it felt to be able to brush over her skin without it hurting.

‘Anyway, I’m back at Polis.’ Clarke turned her attention to the wreckage that she was supposed to be moving, took a deep breath to calm the nerves that came whenever she thought about the people trapped deep underground.

‘The radiation levels are still severe. But it’ll take a while to move the rubble. At least out here, there’s less chance of me being eaten by the Panther.’ Despite their previous alliance, the weather was turning sour again, and she couldn’t blame it for trying to kill her. Nor could she kill it, not when she saw its desperate attempts to fight, to win.

‘I might name it. It’s getting fat, either that or it’s having babies.’ The thought was a cheery one, that something could survive the radiation and still live happily. She wondered if the cubs would be normal.

‘It’s nice to not be alone. I keep thinking of Octavia, down in the Bunker in charge of all those people. I hope she’s alright.’ She’d never particularly seen eye-to-eye with Bellamy’s little sister, not when they were both so headstrong. But she swore she would make a better effort, if she survived the desert.

**

The Shallow Village was back to being a place of beauty, with a lot of hard work and Clarke’s appalling sleep schedule. Her drawings had mostly survived the flooding, so she worked to better the roof and then made sure the groundings weren’t sinking.

 _‘Echo, do you ever think about Roan? I do, occasionally.’_ She changed her language without really thinking about it. The only time she spoke was when the radio was on, the rest of the time her throat dried up and she found that her lips wouldn’t speak.

‘Oh no.’ The clouds had decided to open up, and the first drops of rain hit her skin. She winced on instinct, then halted when the water ran right off her skin with little more than a tingle. When it continued, Clarke laughed, gripped the radio and spun around in the clearing, wet hair splattering onto her jacket.

‘The rain doesn’t burn!’ She cheered, before placing the radio down and stripping off her jacket, chucking it to the ground. The rest of her clothes followed, regardless of the fact that the radio would pick up on the fact she was stripping. After all, it was her story going into that device, the only person that heard it was her.

When she danced under the rain this time, she felt alive. It splashed over the fading burns, trickled over her skin and cooled her down in a way that she had missed for so long. When her eyes opened, however, the world wasn’t quite as she left it.

The trees blurred, the church building wavering in her view, and it took her a moment to realise what had happened. Just because the acidic nature of the rain had slipped, the radiation levels could still affect her mind. She was supposed to avoid heavy rainfall for that very reason, it had a habit of messing with her mind.

Like now, her vision was focusing on a person that definitely couldn’t exist.

‘T-toxic. R-rain’s toxic.’ She managed to stammer out, turning for the radio. Apart from the fact she couldn’t see it, and instead, a hand closed over her arm. Clarke turned back to the person, shaking her head stubbornly.

‘You’re not real.’ Dante Wallace, the President of Mount Weather, tilted his head to one side as Clarke scrambled back in the mud. Her skin was stained with it, the rain was under her skin, digging deeper the longer she spent.

‘You’re not real. You’re not real.’ She repeated it over and over, clutched at her head as he crouched down.

‘We all know who the real monster is, Clarke.’ She sobbed, dug her nails into her skin until she felt something other than the haze in her mind.

‘It’s not real.’

‘Killing all those people, for what?’

‘Need to get out of the rain.’

‘You keep using the same justifications, Clarke. You call yourself a leader…’

‘I didn’t want to kill them! I didn’t want to kill anyone!’ She cried. Clarke reached for her jacket, managed to close her fingers in the leather and reached for a weapon.

‘But you kill so many people.’

‘For my people. It… It’s all for them. I… I bear it, so they don’t have to.’ The man chuckled, took a step closer, and Clarke closed her fingers around what she was looking for.

‘You’re nothing more than a murderer.’

‘I’ll be the bad guy. If they survive, I’d kill everyone on this planet.’ Three gunshots fired, and the vision vanished.

With him gone, Clarke slumped back into the mud and let her sobs drown out the rain.

**

When she woke up, it was to something nudging at her skin. She flicked her eyes open, halted when she saw the golden eyes staring back at her. The panther regarded her for a moment, before taking a step away. She noted that the swollen stomach had shrunk, that now the fur was beginning to grow thicker.

‘Did you have your cubs?’ She questioned, unsure in what tongue she addressed the question. The Panther moved across the clearing, looking for food, completely ignoring her.

‘I guess I’m too toxic for you to eat?’ The panther didn’t reply, not that she was expecting her to. She wondered if the creature would allow her to follow, to see if the cubs were alive, to reach out just to stroke them and see if they had soft fur.

‘I think I’m dying.’ The words spilled out into the open, and Clarke was surprised when the Panther paused. Maybe it could tell, maybe it knew that she wasn’t going to live for the years it took for the others to come back out into the open.

Clarke rose to her feet, walked across and clicked the radio off. She’d charge it later, but for now, she was going to follow the Panther.

It didn’t seem to mind her creeping behind, bare feet squelching over the muddy ground to keep the Panther aware of her presence. She knew most of the Shallow Valley well, could map it out in her mind as they moved Northwards, following the stream and towards the rocky cliffs that lay on the far border. When they reached them, the Panther vanished into a prickly looking hedge. She reached out, brushed aside the thorns, uncaring as they dug into her skin.

Even in the low light, she could see the eyes that looked back. Three cubs, all alive and making sounds as the Mother crept back to them, and Clarke gave a watery smile.

‘How did you survive? How did you Mate survive?’ Because Praimfaya had been a while ago, and these cubs looked to be at least a month old. Combined with the average gestation rate of a mammal like this…

The creature whined, licked at one of the cubs, and Clarke concluded that the creature was dead. That it might have been the one she first ran into. Presumably, it had survived the first wave of radiation, only for the long-term effects to take him out.

‘I’ll protect you. All of you.’ She swore, and the Panther regarded her calmly.

The Commander of Death had found her people once more.


	5. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's found her family

Silence. Another step, fingers flexing around the spear. She caught the signal given to her, stalked forwards before halting. The undergrowth provided the perfect cover, the deer in the meadow unable to see anything of the oncoming attack. The Huntress took another step, lowered her body down to the grassy meadow and looked for the leader of their movements.

As always, the Panther was one step ahead. She’d named her _Seda_ , the Trig word for Teacher. Clarke had learned a lot from her new family, they were better at navigating the Valley than she was, and they defended her when needed. Plus, they had been vital in assisting her at Polis. She owed everything she had to the four of them, but most notably Seda.

The signal was given, a flick of ears that Clarke now understood perfectly. She leapt from her hiding spot, heard the growl of the youngest cub, Osleya, by her side. The spear left her hand, burying into the flank of the creature that was the intended victim, while the cub lunged to get the killing wound. Around them, the rest of the deer scattered, all apart from the Stag. He turned, horns threateningly large, and Clarke readied herself for the fight.

Kapa was the next to her side, teeth baring as the creature approached. Clarke led the cub in the attack, ducking the antlers that would easily kill her if she wasn’t carful, gripping fur and yanking her bodyweight up. She may not have claws, like those that she hunted with, but she did have the strength needed to attack. Her arms reached around the neck, ankles kicking out one of the Stag’s legs so they topped to the ground. Kapa was back, pinning down the flank while Clarke went for the throat.

She managed to get her fingers in deep enough to cause damage, ripping at skin and then turning to Kapa for the final blow. Once the creature had fallen limp, Clarke rose back off the body, turned to Seda as she moved across the clearing.

It was clear that the Panther was impressed, and Clarke fought the smile that stretched across her face. Kepplei was the last cub to approach, helping her drag back the hunt towards their home. She had abandoned the Shallow Village, opting to leave it for the friends that she was waiting on. Instead, she had built a new home for her group, dug into the dirt and constructed with rubble that she had driven back from Polis.

She lit the fire, before going into the hut to find a weapon of some sort. She didn’t usually carry much more than a speak, occasionally a hunting knife, but she did not wear clothing that allowed a lot of items to be transported.

The cubs waited patiently by the fire, Seda stalking around the clearing while Clarke skinned the creatures, gutting and preparing the meet before roasting a portion for herself. While it was cooking, she turned to the cubs, clicked her tongue and watched as they rushed forwards to eat.

‘I’m going to the Village.’ She knew the words, although in English, would be understood by Seda. Sure enough, the mother moved to her cubs and settled, so Clarke walked back to the Shallow Village and to the jeep, where her radio was charging.

‘Spacekru. 1,245 days since _Praimfaya_. The rubble is almost gone, and soon, I will be preparing for the return of Wonkru. My attempts to contact the Bunker were successful, the simple code was received by Kane and Octavia. She is well, the farm has managed to multiply their capacity.’ Clarke paused, trying to remember what else had happened in the time since she had last radioed. Managing to get through to the Bunker had been a blessing, even if the code was so simple and the computer struggled to do anything more than send across small pieces of information.

Clarke had managed to tell Octavia that she would have the Bunker’s entrance cleared for when the five-year period was up. She also managed to inform them that the others were safe.

She’d ignored the message where they asked how she had survived.

‘Wonkru will come to the Shallow Valley, and I think I’ll have to leave.’ Clarke had decided that she liked living in Purgatory. In a place where she couldn’t harm anyone else, where the ground around her was her home.

‘I’m just not meant to be around people.’ She clicked the radio off, turned to find Seda on the edge of the clearing. The Panther studied her curiously, but she just shrugged.

‘One day, they’ll be back.’

**

Clarke swore, eyeing up the oncoming dust-cloud with fear. To begin with, she had genuinely believed it a sandstorm, which wasn’t really an issue for them. But, unfortunately, she had never been a lucky person. Seda jumped up onto the fallen tower beside her, staring at the carcass in front of them. It was horribly mutated, but undeniably a creature of some sort. Talons, a scaly body, it looked like something out of her nightmares.

‘A herd of them.’ She muttered, fingers prodding at the mess Seda had made of the creature.

‘They live in the desert. Which means not everything died.’ Seda nudged at her leg, then hopped back down to where they had been clearing more rubble. They were almost done, the Bunker would soon be accessible and Wonkru would be freed from their captivity.

‘We should get back to training.’ Clarke moved back to the jeep, to where Osleya was dozing on the roof, with Kapa and Kepplei curled on the floor in front. They had grown quite large now, it was hard to transport four fully-grown panthers too and from the forest.

**

When it rained, Clarke stood under the cloud night’s sky and danced once again. After four years, the water finally had no negative effect at all, not even the slightest headache. She moved freely, let the cool water wash over her scarred skin and celebrated the fact that she was still alive. Regardless of what happened once the others came, Clarke would always have her purgatory.

Her walk drove her to the Village, to her old life. She found herself going for the jacket, fishing out the gun that she knew remained in it. The steel was cool to the touch, the gun perfectly ready to fire. She admired it momentarily, then tucked it back where it was safe. After all, she might need it eventually, especially if the others were coming back.

Once Clarke had made sure they were all safe, there was nothing left for her on this planet.

**

Clarke moved around the lab, finished the last parts of her job. A signal for the Ark to lock onto, which would send them down into the desert by the remains of Polis. A message to the Bunker, to let them know that the radiation levels were weeks off of being acceptable for the inhabitants of the Bunker. With her job complete, the Commander of Death turned to her Pride, found Seda eyeing up the map of the desert.

That was the only issue left, the scaled creatures that had been getting closer to Polis. Wonkru would have weapons, and Spacekru would have guns, so they should be alright once they were released from the confines of their respective homes.

She’d grown used to the solitude. Surviving because she had to, because it was for her people. A burden she had to bear, but Clarke knew everything would change when people returned to Earth. Octavia was the new Queen of Wonkru, but Clarke was a _natblida_. When they found that out, she would be a threat to the security of the Queen, despite how Octavia had assured her that they were looking forward to seeing her.

Her Mom was down inside that Bunker. So was Kane. The ones that had tried and failed to lead Skaikru, with Clarke and Bellamy rising to the occasion. When all of these people returned to the ground, how was she supposed to stay in her role as a neutral ally?

She reached for the gun, the one she found herself carrying once again. Seda snarled, but Clarke just gripped the weapon tightly.

‘When they come, there is no need for Wanheda.’

**

‘Murphy? This… this would have been for you.’ Clarke shifted uncomfortably, looking to the satchel she had packed. Everything in her wanted to reach for a weapon, to press it down into her skin until she didn’t have to feel pain anymore. Instead, she turned the radio over and over.

‘We’ve not always been friends. Enemies, first. Reluctant acquaintances. Cockroaches. But I figured you’d be the only one that understands… understood.’ If they came back to earth, Clarke would lose her purgatory.

‘Keep them all safe, yeah? God knows I’ve been trying to do it for so long… so damned long.’ She bit her lip, took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

‘I love you. All of you. Raven, Harper, Monty, you’ve always been there. I might not have done right by you, but I tried so hard. Emori, I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did, but I am sorry. Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to bring pain.’ Almost five years, and Clarke was finally ready to accept her guilt. Ready to face it, to let it sink in to her bones.

‘Echo, I haven’t known you for long. Not properly, but I can tell you’re loyal. That’s what we need. I hope you and Octavia get along.’

‘Murphy, thank you. For being there, even when I didn’t know I needed you to be.’ She could imagine his frown, choked back a sob and looked up to the sky.

‘Bellamy. I… I’m so sorry. There’s nobody I need to apologise to more than you. I hope… I hope you can find happiness.’ Clarke looked to the Village, to their rooms, and then back to the radio.

‘ _Ai laik Klarke kom Skairkru. Yu laik ai Kru. Kom graun, oso na graun op. Kom folau, oso na gyon op_.’

**_I am Clarke of the Sky People. You are my people. From the Earth, we will grow. From the ashes, we will rise._ **

**_‘_ ** _Ai hod yu in. Leidon.’_

**_I love you. Goodbye._ **

The Commander of Death, after 1,824 days since Praimfaya, finally put the radio down and stepped away. She needed it no longer.


	6. Bellamy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years after Praimfaya, the ground is habitable

‘Bellamy!’ The girl flung herself forward, and Raven chuckled when he stumbled back under Octavia’s weight. The siblings hugged tightly, the rest of them averting their eyes and looking to what had to be Polis. The wreckage, just as Clarke had described, was immense. Locking onto the target that Clarke provided, even though she didn’t know that they could hear her, it had been the gift they needed.

Five years since Praimfaya, and this place looked like it hadn't changed. Or, at least, she imagined that was what it looked like when the flames rushed over. Raven turned back to where Wonkru were slowly being raised from the ground, where Abby and Kane were stumbling across to them. She rushed to meet the Doctor, smiling as Abby hugged her just as tightly.

‘Is everyone alright?’ Bellamy asked his sister, who turned to look at Indra.

‘We lost a couple in the beginning. The fighting was bad, but we got it back under control.’ Raven eyed up Wonkru, the people that had formed an alliance so that they could all survive the flame. Octavia had done well to keep them in order, eyed up the paint on her face and the mark that Lexa used to wear.

‘Bloodreina.’ It meant the Red Queen, supposedly because Octavia, despite ruling with an iron fist, had a heart that served her well. The man was obviously a grounder, bowed his head to her before gesturing to the sun.

‘We should move onwards, to the Valley that Wanheda spoke of.’ The mention of Clarke was enough for Raven to feel sick.

Five years, and she had failed to communicate with the friend that needed her the most. Had to listen as Clarke lost her mind, as she begged and cried and fell silent. Listened to the rain that burned, to the nights where the girl woke screaming.

‘Bell?’ Octavia was looking at Bellamy, who had gone pale. Abby took a step closer, looking at him with urgency, demanding an explanation.

‘Not here. Wanheda is still seen as a Leader.’ Kane stated, guiding them away from the main body of their people. The group assembled, with Indra and Jackson following, and Bellamy looked up to Abby for the first time.

‘We could hear her. The radio… she didn’t know we could.’ Raven felt the ache in her gut as tears began to form in the Doctor’s eyes, the pain of knowing her child was alone.

‘Is she…’ Kane trailed off, and Raven swallowed.

‘Alive. Last time she radioed was two days ago. But she did say there was no place for her, when we returned.’ And she still had the gun. Raven looked back to Murphy, the one who had been the quietest over Clarke. Whatever had happened, the two of them shared something that the rest of the group couldn’t quite work out. Raven had a feeling it had to do with the gun that Clarke still carried.

‘We’ll find her once we get to the Valley.’ Octavia said firmly, before looking to Indra. The Warrior nodded, turned back to Wonkru. Then the Queen turned to stare at Echo, an awkward silence falling between the group. A moment passed, Raven noting that Octavia was not the only one to be hesitant of the assassin amongst them.

It did not matter, they had bigger issues. Like making it to the Shallow Valley.

**

When the fight broke out, Bellamy had been about to fall asleep. It started with a shout, of something being thrown in the direction of Echo. The Assassin had been a good friend in the past five years, had earned a place of trust within the group. He could tell his sister didn’t quite believe that yet, but they had time to prove it to her.

A grounder hurled himself forwards, Echo rolling away from where she had been sleeping and lunging for a weapon. Octavia awoke, started shouting in Trig at the man, but it was quite clear that this was personal.

‘She is a murderer!’ He hissed, pointing his spear at Echo. Like always, the woman remained impassive. Quite a few members of Wonkru had turned to the commotion, Indra by Octavia’s side before Bellamy could reach her.

‘We can settle this peacefully.’ Kane tried, hands raised in an appeasing manner. The Grounder kept his weapon aimed at Echo, but Bellamy had no doubt she could avoid it.

‘What is your claim, Afra?’ Bellamy was surprised that Octavia knew his name, but the Grounder seemed to settle at the use. He slumped, eyes remaining locked onto Echo.

‘She murdered my home Village. _Jus drein jus daun_.’ Blood must have blood. Bellamy knew how fond the Grounders were of the phrase, remembered the Last Commander, Lexa, and how she had attempted to change such a thing.

‘Then she will be punished accordingly, once we have set up the Council in the Shallow Valley.’ Octavia’s voice left no room for argument, and Bellamy was impressed by how much his little sister had changed. Rather than the Warrior he had left, she was now a leader.

‘And the Flame?’ That drew attention, a lot of people looking to Octavia for guidance.

‘There are no _natblida’s_ left.’ Indra firmly stated, while Bellamy looked across to Abby. She’d kept that quiet, the knowledge that Clarke had black blood would be something that Wonkru were interested to hear.

‘We shall hold a Conclave, for all those who can be put forwards.’ Octavia had obviously announced this before, and Bellamy waited for the man to retreat before looking to his sister.

‘You won’t stay as Leader?’ The girl glanced to Indra, then back to him.

‘It was my condition of being Leader. Each family or tribe can suggest someone to fight in a Conclave, and the Leader becomes Heda.’ Not only did Bellamy have to find Clarke, but now he had to worry about the fact that if Wonkru found out what she was, they would demand her take the position as Leader.

Clarke. He looked out into the night, searching the desert to try and find proof of her. Five years waiting to be able to apologise, to tell her how sorry he was that she had been left. To tell her how he couldn’t do this without her anymore, that she wasn’t leaving his side.

A hand rested on his knee, Octavia looking at him with a tight smile.

‘She’ll be alright, Bell. Clarke’s a survivor.’

**

It was hot. The heat stretched across the desert, the group leading Wonkru struggling to keep going as they were drained of energy. Water was scarce, they had carried as much as they could, but weapons had been the main priority. As usual, then.

‘How much further?’ Octavia inquired, looking to Raven.

‘Shouldn’t be too far.’ Bellamy shrugged off his jacket, knowing he’d suffer for it later when his skin burned from exposure. Octavia had the right idea, paint provided a little covering without the heat of clothing.

‘Bloodreina!’ His sister turned, a murmur spreading through the clan. It was a lump in the sand, a creature, and Bellamy reached for his gun. Octavia had a hand wrapped around her sword, moving closer towards it, Wonkru watching on.

It was horrible. Definitely dead, he could tell that from the gaping hole in its neck. It had more eyes than he expected, nasty looking talons that stretched out from a scaled body. It was easily the size of a wolf, and Bellamy looked around.

‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Indra remarked, before Bellamy chose that moment to look up. A dust cloud, he had presumed that was what it was, racing towards them over the horizon. He hadn't thought much of it to begin with, but now he was beginning to suspect that the ground beneath them trembled for a different reason.

A flock of them. A pack. Or whatever the collective term for them was.

A scream echoed, and Bellamy pointed his gun on instinct, found one of the creatures moving across the sand towards them. Evidently an early one, one that broke away from the rest of the storm on the horizon.

‘Shoot it!’ Octavia snapped, looking terrified as the thing lunged. People were in the way, he couldn’t get a clear shot, and Wonkru were drawing weapons as it managed to latch on to one of their people. The person that had screamed, a woman that dropped her knife as the creature bit down onto her leg.

Pandemonium. Utter confusion, shouting and everyone trying to give orders, while Octavia pushed her way towards the injured woman, attempting to kill the creature.

She didn’t need to. A second beast appeared, one of smooth black fur, and it tackled the scaled-creature head on. One clean snapping sound could be heard, before Bellamy identified the thing as a Panther. It rose its head back up, before returning as a whistle pierced the air.

Wonkru fell silent, and Bellamy was sure his mouth had dropped open.

‘Clarke.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanheda's back


	7. Struggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is struggling to balance her life now that the others are back

The gun rested against her temple, a cool metal pressed to a faint scar from the burns. A deep breath, letting her heartbeat steady her grip.

Safety off.

This was her job. She had prepared the Village, had been in the lab when the Bunker was opened. Alive, she’d done her job, they were free. They’d be safe, and now she could move on. Could rest, and go on to the next life. To wherever Lexa was.

_But she could go and see Bellamy._

No, if she went back to them, they would die. Everything she touched ended up like that, scarred by death. It was only a matter of time before the Commander of Death finished off those that were left in Wonkru.

_And all her friends._

Clarke sobbed, hand tightening around the gun until it shook. But, in the end, she wasn’t strong enough. She never had been, and the moment she let the thought it, it spiralled out of control. Rather than convincing herself that this was the right thing to do, her mind began to provide the what ifs.

What if Wonkru needed her?

What if they couldn’t find the Valley?

She slumped down onto the ground, choking on nothing as her hand dropped to the ground. Tears pricked at her eyes, her mind aching as too many thoughts whirred around. She just wanted it to stop, to know that she wasn’t going to cause anymore people to be hurt.

What if she _changed_?

If she went back to Wonkru, but stayed distant from those that she could hurt? If she acted solely in the interest of settling them into the Valley? Clarke let the scenario play out in her head, of just checking on the group of people. Making sure they reached the Valley, of ensuring that they found the supplies she had left and the huts she’d been building. That they found the Church, the one she had changed into a building for Octavia, should she stay leader of Wonkru.

As long as she did not let her heart drive her decisions, then she could stay. Isn’t that what Lexa had taught her, all that time ago? That in order to be the very best a person could hope to achieve, emotions needed to be forgotten? The Commander had been one of the greatest, had united the twelve nations despite what the Ice Queen had done to her former lover. Clarke had seen how Lexa ruled, had been by the Heda’s side as she navigated the difficult politics between the Clans.

She could protect Octavia, and it would give her an excuse to see Bellamy. To see her friends, even if it was just for the smallest of moments.

If they didn’t need her, Clarke would return to this point. To the rock that overlooked the Valley beneath, and would press the gun back to her temple.

With her decision made, she rose up and flicked the safety on.

**

Seda eyed her up knowingly, like she had been aware Clarke would return. The woman ignored her Teacher, focused on dressing herself in relatively acceptable clothing. Covering her skin, to hide the marks that lay beneath. She even reached for her jacket, let it slip over her arms. She had no need for the gun, that was just for her, so she opted for her spear. It rested in its holder behind her back, and Clarke settled for one more knife.

With that done, she risked a look at her reflection in the water barrel outside. Technically, there was a mirror in the Village. But she didn’t live there anymore, and walking all that way just to stare at her face seemed ridiculous. She knew what she looked like, tangled hair that was matted and long, blue streaks in it from the flowers that she used as pigment. Red had been her first instinct, before she remembered the Clarke that had been dragged into Lexa’s throne room.

No, blue had settled her soul. She scraped her hair back, tied it with one of the clean strips of pelt she’d collected from their hunting. Her boots were wrapped in the pelts as well, her clothing in certain spots, the ones where the particularly nasty burns used to lie. Her face may have healed relatively well, the scars only visible along her neck and jawline, but it didn’t mean the rest of her had.

Osleya nudged at her palm, reassuring her that she could do this. That she had the ability to control what happened next.

Clarke left the gun in her den, knowing that there would come a point where she returned for it.

**

It made her feel better, to know they were struggling. It was a selfish feeling, one that made her gut tighten in hatred of the creature she had become. Wanheda, the name suited her now more than ever, finding joy in their cries for help as the creature bit into one of Wonkru. Clarke clicked her tongue, Kapa taking the lead and lunging for the reptile-like creature.

An easy kill, but there would be others. She whistled for her Cub to come back, let the whispers of Wanheda drive her to lift her head up.

Her first look at her own species in five years. Strange, they looked different. Shocked expressions, her name falling from Bellamy’s lips.

Oh, she’d missed him so much. He looked older, stubble lining his jaw but his eyes brightening the moment he spotted her. Dressed in dark clothes like normal, a gun in his hand that he returned the second he saw her. Her eyes drifted briefly over the others, letting her heart swell in happiness at the sight of all those that she loved.

Her Mom came running first, saying her name as tears filled her eyes. Clarke had every intention of meeting her half-way, of embracing her and promising that everything would be okay now.

_Everything you touch, Wanheda._

Before she could do anything to stop her mind, Clarke had taken a step back. It was subtle, the way her body tensed ready for the attack, but Abby Griffin was a Doctor. She had experience with the most fragile of people, so the moment Clarke allowed herself to fear the touch, her Mom halted.

‘Hi, Mom.’ She croaked, voice rough from disuse. She willed herself to move forwards, but it didn’t happen, her feet remained planted in the sand.

‘Clarke.’ It was Raven’s turn to approach, just as happy even if there were tears. Soon, Clarke found herself surrounded by those that she loved, by chatter and exclamations of joy. She tried to keep her smile in place, subtly moving back anytime someone got too close, wondering why it didn’t feel like she’d expected.

_Not quite perfect, hey?_

‘Could we have the Doctor?’ A member of Wonkru spoke, a man that was currently bending down by the woman who had been bitten. Abby went to step forward, but Clarke found herself going first.

She brushed past the people hovering, crouched down and admired the bite. Nasty, and if the creatures had been affected by the radiation, then it might not be good. Luckily, she was well accustomed to these issues.

‘Fresh water?’ She asked, the man offering out his own bottle. She sniffed it, then turned to her Pride.

‘Kepplei.’ The cub came rushing forwards, stalking between the members of Wonkru who backed away from the Panther. She reached for his neck, untied the pouch she had attached to him. Inside was the plants that had begun to bloom after the toxic rain, the ones that helped fight the radiation. Down in the lab, she had begun to infuse it into something that could be drunk in the water, to lessen the affects. Seda and her Cubs drank the water she prepared for them every ten days, like clockwork, to keep the radiation effects to a minimum.

‘Drink.’ The woman didn’t question whatever she’d just squished into the water, draining it while Clarke began her assessment of the wound. It was not deep enough to require stitches, a simple poultice would do. A paste of the flower, some of the herbs and the last of the medicine that had been in the Lab was applied from the small pot she carried with her, followed by a strip of cloth to wrap around.

‘You must keep drinking medicated water. The creature was affected by radiation.’ The woman accepted the hand that Clarke offered out, pulling her up. Her first human contact, with a woman she did not even know the name of.

‘Thank you, Wanheda.’ That name, it burned in the back of her mind like a reminder of everything she had been.

**

Clarke led the group with her Pride at her feet. They kept a distance, obviously not too keen on the Panthers, but she had no reason to worry. Wonkru eyed them up with awe, especially Osleya. She loved the attention, raced around the group and teased them with how close she would get. Some of the children began to move closer, their parents wary, but they were inquisitive.

‘How far to the Valley?’ Indra asked her, Clarke looking back to the Warrior.

‘Not far. Hopefully before the storm.’ She eyed up the clouds with distaste, then looked over her shoulder to where the sand-creatures were. Where the dust met the clouds overhead, a hazy fog was spreading.

‘Is there enough shelter for all of us?’ Octavia questioned. A natural Leader, looking out for her people.

‘I built homes for you. They’re waterproof, so I suggest getting everyone settled quickly. The rain might hurt for a while.’ Clarke was distracted from the chatter of how to best organise the families by the people of Wonkru. A young girl was slowly getting closer to Osleya, her brother (or she presumed them to be siblings) following behind. Osleya was just as intrigued, moving towards her curiously.

The parent of the child reached instinctively for a weapon, before looking up and meeting Clarke’s gaze. Fear, Panthers had been a threat to the Grounders.

She weaved herself through the people, noting that her friends watched her go back.

‘Osleya.’ The Panther looked to her, and she clicked her tongue, a series of quick hand-gestures to convey her meaning. The Cub halted, sitting patiently while Clarke crouched down in front of the girl.

‘What’s your name?’ She asked quietly, studying the dark eyes that peered up at her.

‘ _Au laik Isla kom Podakru_.’ The Lake people, Clarke had never had the chance to get to know them well.

‘Hi Isla, I’m…’ She halted, just for the briefest of moments, ‘Clarke, of the Sky People.’ Then she looked to her Cub, gestured for Osleya to come forwards.

‘ _This is Osleya. She’s friendly, I promise_.’ She spoke in Trig, considering the girl had replied in it. The girl reached out, fingers tracking into Osleya’s fur. The Panther held still, letting the girl explore, before Isla grinned.

‘Thank you, Clarke.’ The girl shifted to English, and Clarke smiled. This was her duty, to protect the people of Wonkru.

Lexa had once told her that the children were the future, that it was their job to keep them safe. That, as Commander, she had always valued the children of her Clan. Grounders started adult-life early, Lexa herself had been a child when she had taken the Flame.

All these thoughts stayed with her as she moved back to Seda’s side, another sound to summon Osleya to her side. The Panther licked at her hand, while Kappa came to try and get involved.

The Shallow Valley would be their home, and she would make sure Wonkru settled.

Hopefully before the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! They'll talk, eventually


	8. The Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I went back and changed all the mentions of the Village to Shallow, sorry about that! 
> 
> Back to the story :)

‘You built this?’ Indra asked, for once sounding slightly more emotional than Clarke had expected. She wondered why they were impressed by something so simple, it was nothing more than rubble and sticks built into a shape. The Commander of Death had taken out an entire Mountain, why was building a village seen as an impossible task? Still, Clarke knew her place was not to question the people she was sworn to protect, nodded her head sharply.

‘Yes. The original houses are the ones closest to the Church. Bloodreina,’

_That’s Octavia, your friend._

‘Can stay in the Church. Some of the rooms closest have names on, but the rest are uninhabited.’ Indra nodded her head, turning to Octavia to give orders. Bloodreina paused, met Clarke’s eye and almost looked like she was pleading, like she wanted help.

_That’s why you came here, to assist the Queen of Wonkru._

‘I’d suggest splitting them into their original Clans, sending them to the largest buildings.’ Clarke offered, hoping her suggestion wasn’t overstepping. Five years of no human communications had left her wondering if she’d need to relearn, but that didn’t seem to be the case in this instance. The Red Queen gave the order, and people began to split up.

‘Which one is yours?’ Indra gestured to the original houses, the ones that had existed before Clarke had come along.

‘None. I don’t live in the Village, I built it for…’ She halted, realising quickly where this would lead if she continued.

‘I moved out after a storm.’ And decided to never return.

Clarke started walking, showed them the church, the food supplies buried deep below ground. Led them to their rooms, first to Spacekru’s rooms, then to the ones that had eventually joined. Octavia had a room, as did Abby, Kane, Jackson and Miller, Indra and finally Gaia. When that was done, they walked back to the Church, Clarke moving outside to peer up at the sky. She technically didn’t need to, she could taste when the rain would come, but it was nice to reassure what she had learned.

‘We don’t have that long…’

‘Around half an hour.’ Clarke provided, studying the clouds.

‘Until the rain. We should make sure everyone is settled.’ Kane’s words were met by the group splitting up, Bellamy walking in her direction.

_Don’t even think about it, Wanheda._

‘Clarke.’ She’d almost forgotten the way it sounded when he said her name. The tone, the accent, the way his eyes would almost always meet hers when the word was said. Around them, others were pretending not to be listening.

‘Bellamy.’ How many times had she said that name aloud over the years?

‘Will you move back to the Village with us?’ Not what she’d been expecting, and Clarke startled. She opened her mouth, instinct telling her that if she moved back, so would the death. Then again, she couldn’t protect them from her home outside.

‘I… I could move my home closer, I’ve got to stay for the Cubs.’ A complete lie, they could live without her. Clarke, however, could not. As if they read her thoughts, the Panthers were moving towards her, Kepplei putting himself between her and Bellamy.

But Bellamy didn’t look sad, he smiled up at her.

‘It’s good to see you, Clarke. I missed you. We all did.’ His words were laced with something deeper than the tone suggested, a fear that she was unsure of. Her stomach twisted angrily, the demand for her to separate herself before the emotions could cloud her judgement.

‘I missed you too.’

_Brighten the tone, Wanheda._

‘But we’re all back now, and alive!’ She cheered, promptly turning away to study those that were moving items into the homes she had built. When she saw Isla, she excused herself from Bellamy’s side, moving across to assist.

**

Thirty-two minutes after Clarke’s warning, the first drop of water hit the ground of the Shallow Village. It was accompanied by a shriek from one of the people still not inside, and Clarke shouted a warning to the others. Luckily, her Panthers took the warning and spread it, a roar tearing through the Village that had the people flooding into their homes.

‘Isla!’ It was the Mother again, the one Clarke had looked to earlier to check that she could approach. She was hanging in the doorway of one of the buildings, staring out across to where Isla was still sitting on one of the stone walls.

Clarke didn’t think before making the sound, the signal she used for her Pride as a warning.

Seda was the closest, knocked her head between the girl’s legs so she could lift her, before sprinting across the clearing towards the Mother. It worked perfectly, the clouds opening just as the girl vanished under the clearing.

A couple of people dared to stretch their hands out, hissed and retracted them, most shutting the doors to their homes.

They were watching her. The eyes of Wonkru, following Clarke as she continued to move the boxes that had been brought out from under the ground.

_The Commander of Death has beaten the rain._

The Church doors were open, the Bloodreina standing there with their friends. No, Octavia’s friends, Clarke had to stop letting her emotions drive her attachment. She lifted yet another box, moved across the clearing and then sighed, the rain was heavier than she’d expected.

It didn’t even prick her skin anymore, the same rain that burned these people. If that wasn’t proof that the radiation had turned her into some sort of Monster, she didn’t know what was.

**

The pressure on her shoulder was what woke her. Instinct drove Clarke to snap her eyes open, to make a sound that she knew was one of panic, stumbling blindly away from whatever the threat was. She may not carry a gun on her anymore, but she had knives, and nails that may not quite be claws, but she could rip skin.

Emori held both hands up in surrender, eyes wide as Clarke backed away.

_Not death this time, Wanheda._

She forced her shoulders to relax, drove the fogginess from her mind and plastered a smile onto her face. When the rain had stopped, she didn’t know, but people were back and walking through the Village. Quite a few were watching her again, like she shouldn’t have woken up so poorly.

After five years of being alone, being woken up by a human hand was the most terrifying thing Clarke had ever faced.

‘Sorry, you startled me.’ Clarke lied, smiling up at Emori and noting the jacket she was wearing.

‘My fault, I did call, but…’ Emori halted, and Clarke had to remind herself that, for this girl, they weren’t friends. Clarke had spent five years talking to her, but Emori had not. The last thing she remembered was the Lab, where Clarke had been ready to experiment on the girl.

‘I guess I have you to thank, for the jacket? It’s beautiful, I’ve never had a gift like it.’ Emori was smiling at her, which was confusing. Clarke tried to work out the catch, what the girl was hoping to achieve, but when nothing else happened, she slowly returned the smile.

‘It’s alright. I thought it would suit you.’ Emori thanked her once more, before walking back to where Murphy was standing, by Bellamy and the others.

‘Wanheda?’ She spun, found a member of Wonkru, the same man that had called for a Doctor.

‘Yes?’

_You answer to that name, now?_

‘I was just wondering how often I should replace the poultice. And what you used for it?’ Of course! The injured woman from earlier, the one she had helped. How had Clarke forgotten?

_Because you let your emotions cloud your judgement._

‘I’ll come and see to her now.’

**

Afra was the man that Clarke had met, and he was also the one that had lost his entire Clan to Echo. She winced, _Yujleda_ may not have been a powerful Clan, but it was still horrible to have lost so many people. The woman was a friend of his, Efana of the _Delfikru_. Clarke listened to them talk as she cleaned and bandaged the wound, used this as an opportunity to learn more about the time in the Bunker.

Soon, a Conclave would be called. Each of the twelve clans would be entitled to put forwards a Warrior, and the one that won would be the new Heda. That meant it was now Clarke’s job to learn all those prominent in each Clan, just to make sure she could support the next Heda. The Flame was still in play, Gaia kept close watch of it, but nobody would be able to properly ascend because they were not Nightbloods.

A secret she could keep, to protect Wonkru.

The child that Clarke had befriended, Isla, was one of only three people from Podakru. The other being her brother, Dilli, and her Mother, Yanna. This was worrying, considering it was necessary for each clan to provide a Warrior for the Conclave. Afra was a definite for his clan, Efana might recover in time to stand for hers.

‘This Conclave does not need to be a fight to the death.’ Clarke stated, silencing the house around her. It was consisting of all those from Delfikru that survived, and it was a good start if she was to help the next Heda.

‘It doesn’t?’

‘No. It is an honour to serve as the chosen, but it does not need to end in blood. It is no shame to be defeated in a Conclave, for you are already the best of your Clan.’ She would need to talk to Yanna, to ask her if she would stand for her Clan, or whether one of the children would. If they did, Clarke would make sure they were not killed.

As she walked back outside, she caught sight of her friends around one of the fires. As if sensing her, Bellamy rose his head and met her eye, and Clarke fought the smile that spread across her face.

‘Thank you for your help, Wanheda.’ Afra bowed his head to her, and Clarke quickly returned the gesture, before anyone could think it anything other than thankful.

_The great Wanheda, trying to save lives? Whatever next?_

She had to agree with the voice, how the tables had turned.


	9. It's Clarke!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issues with Clarke, Conclave and a Hunt

‘We have bigger issues than…’

‘Screw that, it’s Clarke!’ Raven snapped at Indra, who fell silent. Nobody disagreed with her, not when they could all see something was definitely wrong with the girl.

‘We need to get Wonkru settled, and then we can deal with Clarke.’ Indra firmly stated, her head turning to Octavia. Raven waited for her judgement, before she slowly nodded.

‘Conclave, hunting parties, a new Heda of Wonkru.’ Just as she spoke, Bellamy appeared. He looked tired, emotional in a way she had seen over their five years in space, mostly when Clarke was on the radio. It had been a group decision, Murphy aside, to not tell Clarke that they had heard the radio messages she sent them.

‘O, come and see this.’ They all followed, curious as to what had Bellamy looking so sad. He reached his room, opened the door and stepped in, and Raven gasped.

The walls were covered in sketchings, almost every space filled with something. Images of Bellamy, of Octavia and the Ark, of the area around their old home. One of the group of them, Clarke included, although she was far off to the edge. Of Octavia and Lincoln, of Mount Weather.

‘She’s talented.’ Indra commented, moving to trace the edge of the one with Octavia and Lincoln.

‘My room looks the same.’ Monty admitted, before Echo spoke up.

‘And mine, surprisingly. With the addition of the sword.’ The one she now had slung over her back, a beautiful weapon that Raven had caught Octavia staring at longingly.

‘Once the Conclave is sorted, we’ll talk to Clarke.’ Octavia promised, before Murphy walked out of the room without a word.

**

‘I give you my word, I will not let her come to any harm.’ Clarke swore, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. She regretted it when her body tensed up, even though she had been the one to initiate contact. Apparently, she still wasn’t too fond of human interaction.

‘Thank you, Wanheda. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.’ Yanna looked across to where her daughter was playing, and Clarke swallowed down her guilt. The Conclave would be coming up, and Isla was going to take her place for her Clan. Yanna could not, she had an injury to her hand that would prevent her wielding a weapon. Clarke would keep an eye on the girl, would convince Afra to form a coalition with her when it came to the Conclave.

‘You should know something, Clarke.’ The girl halted, turning back to the Mother.

‘ _Ingranronakru,_ they suffered badly at the hand of one of their own. Vandrah, he’s the only male left in the Clan.’ The name rang a warning in her head, one she remembered from Lexa. The old Commander had told her about the Clan, about a Warrior that went insane and led his troops into a battle that they could never win. She’d also told Clarke that they didn’t dare move against him, for he was one of the best swordsmen she’d ever seen. If Lexa was admitting to it, then he had to be dangerous.

‘Will he stand for Conclave?’ Clarke asked, looking to where Isla had settled by Kappa’s side. The Panthers liked the space inside this home, probably because it was just the three members of the Lake People that were left.

‘The women in the Clan are terrified of him, there won’t be anybody that dares to stand against him.’ She’d speak to Afra, maybe to Octavia, who she presumed would take Skaikru’s place at the Conclave.

‘Thank you for the warning.’ Clarke left the hut, found quite the crowd gathered around the Bloodreina. She was trying to calm them, but tempers were rising, and Clarke moved closer to see what the fight was about.

‘Without an arena, the Conclave cannot be monitored! A cheat could take the place as Heda!’

‘A disgrace to our ancestors!’ Another shouted, while Octavia’s hand drifted to the sword she had at her side. Clarke pushed through the crowd, found Afra near the front, stepping out of the people and turning back.

‘We don’t need an arena for the Conclave.’ She said firmly, a silence falling as Wonkru stared at her.

_Protect Bloodreina._

‘If the competitors were each to wear a small piece of equipment to their armour, then we can link them up to a screen. Everyone can watch, from the sanctuary of the Village, whilst the Conclave takes place. An assurance that nobody cheats, that the Heda wins fairly.’ She’d been thinking about it for a while, the technology left in the Lab that she could use for good.

‘We would be able to watch?’ A person called, and Clarke nodded.

‘Yes. The Conclave will be held at Polis, over the rubble that will serve as the arena. The rest of us will stay here, to observe.’ Clarke looked to Octavia, waiting for the Bloodreina to accept the proposition. She did, turning to Raven and asking her if she could sort out the necessary equipment.

‘Once the Hunting parties and food storage has been sorted, we will gather for the Conclave Warriors.’ Octavia announced, while Clarke looked to Afra, nodded her head to the side.

They stepped away from the breaking crowd, Clarke not bothering with the formalities.

‘Vandrah, of Ingranronakru. I need you to protect Isla from him.’ The Warrior looked across to the Clan’s home, then back to Clarke.

‘Coalitions are not prohibited in the arena…’

‘Just don’t let her die. She’s a child.’ Afra paused, before he bowed his head.

‘You have my word, Wanheda.’

_Protecting one child, Clarke? It doesn’t make up for all those you killed._

‘Thank you.’

**

‘Clarke!’ She rose her head, found the group around the fire, eating breakfast. The smell of cooked fish made her stomach twist with nausea, but she moved across regardless, smiled to her Mom.

‘Morning. How are the plans for the food coming along?’ Clarke had collected a lot, used techniques that Lexa had taught her to preserve food. They had enough to sort them for a while, plus Clarke had set up farms on the edges of the Village to provide for them.

‘We’ve got everyone allocated to a position.’ Indra informed her, while Harper handed her a plate with some fish.

‘Oh, I’m not hun…’

‘Clarke, you’re stick-thin. Eat.’ Her Mom’s tone left no room for argument, and she felt like a scolded child when she accepted the plate with a quiet thank-you. It reminded her of the fish she caught for Murphy’s birthday, of the creatures that were twisted by radiation. On a Hunt, she could almost forget that she was eating meat from something that survived a death-wave.

She picked at the fish, eyeing up the fire and wondering if she could trip and spill it onto the flames.

‘What were your plans for the day?’ Raven asked her, and Clarke wondered if she should admit she was going to train Isla ready for the Conclave. No, that wasn’t a wise idea.

‘I might go Hunting.’

‘Could we join you?’ Bellamy asked her, looking hopeful. She hesitated, it was supposed to be a private thing between her and her Pride.

_You came back for them, stop being stubborn._

‘Sure. You can stay at the top of the Valley.’ Out of the way of the aggressive deer that would sometimes turn around and attack.

She watched as the others agreed to come, the only two not joining being her Mom and Indra. Even Kane was interested, which confused her.

‘We’ll stop off at my home first, I can’t hunt in this.’ She looked down to her clothes, then back to the fire. With the agreement made, she stood up and walked away from the fire, pausing when she realised she was still holding the plate with the fish on it.

Kepplei bounded over to her, and how could she deny such a cute face?

**

‘It’s… cosy.’ Harper commented, before Murphy cut in.

‘It’s a hole in the ground.’ The others scowled at him, but Clarke laughed, smiling at him.

‘Perfect for a cockroach.’ That had him smirking right back at her, and for a moment, Clarke genuinely considered just telling them the truth. That she was only going to live until they had settled, before she’d leave them once more.

She turned back to her home, to where the Panthers were staring at the intruders. She moved to her clothes, grabbed the jacket on instinct and completely forgot what she’d hidden under it.

The moment she spotted the gun, Clarke felt the guilt in a rush. It was bad enough that she almost winced, staring at the metal that would one day be her downfall. The others had gone silent, staring at the gun that they knew she definitely didn’t need, considering there wasn’t a threat.

‘So, I’ll just get changed, then take you to the Hunting spot.’ Clarke placed the jacket back down, covering the gun and turning her back on those that had entered her home.

Once she knew they had gone, she reached for the weapon once more. Further into her home, down to the back where her sketchbook and the last of her art supplies lived, tucking it with them. Seda watched her do so, yowling quietly in support.

She stripped of the leather clothing that was expected in the Shallow Valley, dressing back in the furs and strips of cloth she wore when hunting. Light clothing, accompanied by her hair which she tied back firmly. Sandal-shoes, strapped around in support so she could run quickly.

Her arms were exposed. It was never an issue, usually. Clarke had nobody to stare at the silvery scars that littered her skin, the faint marks from the radiation. Plus, with just a thin shirt on, her neck was exposed. Still, they had no right to judge her for it.

Stepping out of the Cave, she watched as their eyes wandered.

‘Radiation burns?’ Echo asked bluntly, and Clarke was thankful for it.

‘Yeah.’ And with that, the conversation ended.

**

She was back in her element. Away from humans, she could almost forget they were at the top of the Valley watching. Clarke moved quietly towards the long grass, Kappa at her side as they stalked the herd of what she would call bison. Large horns, too dangerous for Grounders to hunt. Lexa had told her how they had chased them from the Villages, keeping them away from the Clan-land.

Clarke took another step, let her fingers tighten on the hold of the spear. Kappa made a quiet sound, one that told her Seda was closing in on their target.

The signal was a barked-sound, one that had Clarke drawing the attention of the bison. Unlike the deer, Bison did not run from one human. In fact, they turned and lowered their head, ready to charge. Seda’s target was a young bull, that stomped its foot in annoyance before beginning the charge.

Clarke ran. She ran faster than she’d ever thought possible, feet speeding across the Valley. Endurance wasn’t difficult, she’d had plenty of years to perfect this. Seda’s roar filled the clearing, the first of the Panthers’ hitting the side of the creature. Clarke turned, lined up her spear and took the shot, aiming straight for the neck. It hit, so she called for Kappa to attack, before running back in the direction of the bull.

Thick fur to grip, swinging her leg up and going for her spear, driving it further into muscle. The creature thrashed beneath her, but Clarke was far too prepared, drove a knife into muscle to hold. Kappa got the killing bite, the creature dropping down and taking her with it.

She rose smoothly, admiring their kill. An impressive size, this would have fed them for days back when they Hunted only when needed. A kill like this? They wouldn’t have come back to the Valley for weeks, surviving just on what they had to take.

A warning came from the side, where Seda was standing guard. Another Bison was charging, heading straight for Osleya, who was to preoccupied with chewing at the rear leg of the bull to comprehend the danger.

Clarke threw her spear even though she was at the wrong angle, drew the attention of the creature that began to charge at her.

She didn’t have the head-start this time. Her warning cry was for her Pride to protect her, narrowly rolling to the side and avoiding horns that would have her dead. Osleya, making up for her earlier slip in concentration, was by her side in an instant. The two of them scampered, Seda fleeing to the treeline and Kappa and Kepplei moving away from their kill.

Clarke was exhausted, had far less stamina than a Panther. Osleya provided useful in this context, let Clarke slide onto her back and began her sprint. It was a reason for staying so thin, her weight being nothing compared to what the Panther could carry.

When the Bison eventually left their kill, they returned to the Valley. Clarke hobbled across, wincing when she noted the cut on her arm. Black blood dribbled down from it, but it wasn’t bad enough to warrant her immediate attention.

‘Clarke!’ The group were approaching, staring at her like she was mad. She ignored them in favour of slicing part of her shirt off, wrapping it around the cut on her arm.

Osleya made a pleased sound, nudging at her leg and looking at their kill with hunger in her eyes.

‘They’re big, right?’ Clarke stated to her friends, before reaching for her knife. Seda took a step closer, and the girl rolled her eyes.

‘You’ve got to let me skin it first, Seda.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly love the Pride so much :)


	10. Nominations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nominations for the Conclave are in!!

‘Again.’ Isla swung the pole, and Clarke blocked the blow with ease. The girl had stamina, she’d give her that. A desire to protect her brother, to keep her Mom safe. It was the same legacy that she knew Lexa had, a child-Commander that had rose to power at a similar age.

‘Remember to watch your side.’ She demonstrated this movement by swiping the girl’s legs out from under her, watching her drop down into the dirt. Isla didn’t complain, simply shook away the blow and picked herself up. She would make a good warrior, with time.

They had travelled out of the Village to fight, in fear of the others noticing her training. If they found out she was supporting one of the Clans over the other, it might cause problems. Clarke had spent the time after the Hunt talking to the other leaders of the Clans, the ones that would fight to become Heda. Some she knew, like Brell of the Desert Clan and Penn from Trikru. Others she’d never met before, but most seemed friendly. They all had listened when she explained that Isla would be fighting, that blood did not need to have blood in this Conclave.

She did try and talk to Vandrah, only to find that he was indeed as horrible as the rumours surrounding him. The women in the hut looked afraid, cowered with the children as Clarke spoke to the man. Clearly he thought himself a leader, despite the fact he was not a Nightblood.

‘We’re done for the day, come on. You might even get some of the Bison.’ The walk back to the Village was filled with Isla peppering her with questions on the last Commander, on the history of the Twelve Clans and the arrival of Skaikru.

The Village was buzzing, far too many people trying to cram in to listen to Octavia’s announcement. The Clans were separated, like they were before Wonkru, ready to send forward their best Warrior. Isla ran across to her Mother, while Clarke skirted around to sit by the fire. Her Pride came to sit by her, watching as Octavia rose herself up.

‘Tonight, we call upon the Thirteen Clans to nominate forward a Warrior. It is the greatest honour, to represent your people and fight for the title of Heda.’ Clarke chewed on the piece of meat that was passed to her by Monty, before shuffling slightly further away. She preferred solitude, it would help her keep the emotions away. Indra took a step forward, ready to read out the Clans.

‘Will Trikru present their Warrior.’ Clarke watched as Penn rose, as the crowd cheered and clapped for him. He was a fine Warrior, had served under Indra and would be fierce competition for those around.

‘Azgeda.’ Unsurprisingly, Echo rose up from her chair. Those who survived from the Ice Nation were more than willing to follow Echo, mostly because they had heard of her legacy.

‘We take a moment to honour Floukru, the last of whom died in the Black Rain.’ The silence fell, while Clarke thought back to Luna. That was another death on her hands, she had been the one to seek Luna out. To demand her presence, when the woman wanted to be left alone.

‘Sankru.’ Brell rose, her hair tied back in a braid and a fierce look of determination that was echoed by her people.

‘Yujleda.’ Another moment of silence, as Afra rose himself up, sitting in solitude with the memory of his Clan behind him. Clarke watched his gaze turn to Echo, then return to Bloodreina.

‘Ouskejon Kru.’ A woman called Rena, who Clarke had spoken to that morning, rose herself up. She nodded to the Red Queen, before her gaze flicked to Clarke briefly. She had sworn to protect Isla, if it came down to it. Not to harm the girl.

‘Delfikru.’ Efana, the woman that had been bitten but was recovering quickly. She was friendly enough, especially to Afra. They’d probably form a coalition in the fight. 

‘Trishanakru.’ A man named Fores, easily twice her size with broad shoulders, a nasty scar that ran under his collar, and a club at his side. Strangely, he’d also agreed not to harm Isla.

‘Podakru.’ Isla stood up, bowing her head to Bloodreina. People cheered for her, despite the fact she was not of their Kru, perhaps admiring the fact that she had stepped up to protect her family. An honour that not many would disapprove of.

‘Ingranronakru.’ A silence fell as Vandrah rose up, before he turned to his Clan and they applauded. Clarke glared, tightening her grip on the edge of her plate. To her side, Seda growled out a low warning for her not to do anything drastic. Clarke could not let him become Heda, no matter what happened.

‘Boudalankru.’ Devian, a rather handsome looking Warrior who wasn’t quite as well built, but certainly looked the part. She knew he wasn’t too fond of her, partly because of the fact that he had been brothers with one of the Grounders massacred by Finn. He had still agreed to keep Isla safe, if he had to.

‘Skaikru.’ Octavia rose up, and there was a brief murmur of praise from the people from the Ark. Kane gave a reassuring nod, Abby looked proud. Bellamy was by her side, ready to look after her if she needed it.

‘We take a moment to remember Louwoda Kliron Kru.’

‘No.’ Indra halted, watched as a member of Trikru stepped forward.

‘Not all of Shallow Valley are dead.’ Clarke halted, looked to the murmuring agreement from those around them. Indra tried to calm the crowd, but there was a growing idea amongst the people of Wonkru.

‘Trikru nominates Klarke kom Louwoda Kliron Kru.’ Oh no. This couldn’t be good, this definitely was bad.

‘Sankru seconds the nomination.’ Brell stated, nodding in Clarke’s direction. Seda nudged at her leg, urged her to rise up.

‘Podakru thirds.’ It was done. Three nominations, and Clarke looked to those that had just demanded she stand for the fallen Clan.

_You can protect Isla. You can protect whoever becomes Heda._

She stood up slowly, before turning to Octavia.

‘I accept the nomination to honour those of Shallow Valley.’ The applause was almost deafening, but Clarke did not miss the way that Vandrah’s smile grew.

She would not let him become Heda, no matter what.

**

‘Clarke, you can’t be serious…’

‘She was nominated.’ Echo pointed out, which Clarke was thankful for. She looked to Bellamy, shrugging.

‘I’ll just stick with Isla.’

‘We’ll find you.’ Octavia stated, nodding to Echo as well. Clarke was confused, when had they become so concerned for her? What did she do to deserve this?

‘No, focus on yourselves. You need to fight to win.’ Echo and Octavia would both make a good Heda, she thought.

‘We’ll be able to watch you. If you need us…’ Bellamy started, a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. Clarke wrenched herself back, almost tripping over Monty before realising what she had done, forcing her feet to stand still.

Bellamy recoiled like she’d stabbed him, and Clarke fought the urge to flee.

‘Sorry. Still not used to… people.’ She tried to make the tone teasing, but it fell rather flat in the room. Bellamy tried for a smile, and Clarke realised that she was hurting them. Hurting all of them, because they walked around her like she wasn’t the person they used to know.

_It’s better than them all being dead._

With that in mind, she left the Church and stepped out into the night. A clear sky, a bright moon that she walked out under. It was a warm evening, so she decided to settle by one of the fires, sitting down and drawing her knees to her chest.

Tomorrow, she’d take Isla to the stream and would continue her training.

Seda appeared, came to rest at her side. Then Osleya clambered onto her lap, with Kappa and Kepplei joining the group. She laughed, dropped back and let her Pride comfort her.

‘Night.’ She mumbled to Seda, receiving a licked cheek in response.

**

‘What are they?’ Isla traced a finger along her back, the two of them bathing in the stream after training.

‘Burns, from Praimfaya.’ She wasn’t sure she liked the touch, was glad when the girl pulled back. She climbed from the water, dried off and dressed quickly.

‘I’m sorry I nominated you.’ Clarke helped the girl out, looked to the fish they had managed to collect.

‘Don’t be. You did it with the right intentions.’ It just meant she could keep her safe. Isla looked to her arm, to the cut that she had received yesterday during the Hunt, and Clarke knew she could tell.

‘You should be Heda, Clarke.’

_You’d kill them all._

‘The last person Wonkru needs as Commander is me.’

**

‘The cameras are up, and Indra took the jeep to distribute the weapons across Polis. Tomorrow, the Conclave members will prepare for battle. The fight will start at dawn the day after.’ Octavia’s announcement was met with a rush of excitement, murmurs of hope for the new Heda. Clarke stayed to the side, before someone approached from behind. She expected the hand on her arm, forced herself to stay still, figuring it was one of her friends.

When she turned, Clarke’s body responded in the correct way for once. She yanked herself out of Vandrah’s grip, stared at the Warrior in distaste.

‘Can I help you?’ She asked coldly, and the man shrugged.

‘I know Lexa spoke of me, child.’ Her name on his tongue, it made something in her hurt.

_Emotions, Clarke, are a weakness._

She missed Lexa. The Commander would know what to do, would know how to repress the emotions that kept driving her towards her friends. Would help keep the death away, would make Wonkru prosper. If there was anyone she could talk to for a moment, she hoped it was Lexa.

‘To tell me that you’re a monster.’ He looked amused, gripped her wrist tight enough that it would bruise.

‘When I win the Conclave, Wanheda, you will be the first I kill.’

_Not if I beat you to it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess you can tell where the next chap is heading ;)


	11. Conclave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conclave

The moment the bell sounded, Clarke’s mission was to find Isla. She had been silent on the drive across, keeping a hand on the wheel and her mind in check. She’d said goodbye to her Pride earlier, left them in the capable hand of Yanna, and then said brief goodbyes to her friends. When she arrived at Polis, she’d left the jeep and walked to her position.

Her instructions to Isla had been to hide. Clarke ignored the urge to find a weapon, she had no need for one yet. She’d get to Isla, make sure the girl was safe. Octavia and Echo had begged her to come and find them, to form a coalition. By now, the others at the Shallow Valley would have realised she was not listening to that piece of advice.

The rubble around Polis provided the perfect steps for her to climb, hand scrambling over rock and feet struggling to keep up.

‘Isla?’ She stated, before her chest pinged. The camera also had a speaker, so that they were aware of how many were left.

One person was gone. Clarke could only hope it was not Isla, continued in her trek towards high ground. She had told Isla that the best vantage point was a good idea, but as she approached, she lowered her body down. Being high may give her the chance to spot people, but it also let them spot her.

‘Clarke?’ A voice called, and the woman hurried to where a tiny hand poked out. Sure enough, Isla had done as told, had buried herself into a small hollow and kept hidden. With Clarke’s help, they climbed out of the hole.

‘One person is already gone.’ Clarke told her, helping the girl to her feet.

‘Rena. I saw her surrender to Afra.’ Another ping on their chest, a second person gone. Clarke gestured for her to follow, began to head towards where the main fight would likely be. It was time to try and get a weapon, something she could give to Isla.

‘Here, pick up a rock for now. It’s better than empty hands.’ The girl did as told, keeping in her footsteps as they moved across the wreckage of Polis.

When she spotted the weapons, it came to her immediate attention that there weren’t many left. An axe, far too heavy for Isla to hold. Still, the small knife was okay, she handed it across to the girl before picking up one of short-swords and placing it into Isla’s belt.

‘Keep an eye on our backs.’ The walk across the rubble was calming, the faint sounds of shouting echoing out.

Isla gasped before Clarke spotted the threat, a knife skidding past her cheek and hitting the rock behind. Wanheda turned, identified Devian, and realised she had a fight on her hands.

**

Echo swore, ducking the blow from Afra and wondering what in Hell’s name had kept Octavia. She turned her head, briefly spotted Octavia battling with Penn, then went back to slashing at the man on top.

‘You killed my family.’ Afra snarled, knife digging deeper. She refused to give up, pushed upwards until her vision began to blur, until she thought she was about to pass out.

‘I surrender.’ Echo had not really wanted to be Heda, mostly entered the competition to keep out one of the fierce Azgeda warriors from the position. Still, surrendering was not a nice thing to do, she heard the ping as her defeat was registered. Afra halted, and Echo waited for his verdict. He had every right to kill her, if he wanted to.

‘Wanheda was right, spilling your blood won’t bring back my family.’ He stepped back, before Echo stripped off her armour belt to prove she was beaten. A second later, a shout from Octavia drew her attention.

Bloodreina was down, bleeding from a wound and looking up to Efana, who had just taken down both Penn and her. They were allowed to live, the woman moving away and back to Afra’s side. A coalition, it made sense when she thought about.

‘Have you seen Clarke?’ Octavia asked Penn, who gave her a hand up. The member of Trikru shook his head, the group turning to watch what would happen next.

**

Devian, as it turned out, was more than willing to honour their deal about Isla. He charged at her, avoiding Isla completely, but Clarke knew the dangers of being in a fight. She had black blood, a dangerous thing in the Conclave, and so she ran without hesitation. It may be seen as cowardly, but Clarke was not the Commander they needed.

Her feet finally managed to reach top speed as she flew over the rubble, leading Devian down to where she’d spotted the others that had just lost. Octavia and Echo, which was upsetting, but she could deal with that after.

Afra spotted her first, rose his weapon, then noted the man chasing after her. He ignored her as she ran past, instead turned to Devian ready for the fight. Efana turned to Clarke briefly, the woman waiting for the verdict.

‘Go back to Isla.’ She bowed her head in thanks, looping back around Polis and back towards Isla.

She managed to get back to the ridge, only to find Isla on her knees, Brell’s blade at her throat.

‘I surrender.’ There was barely a spot of blood on her, she had obviously tried to fight. Brell nodded, looked briefly to Clarke, before heading down towards the main fight. They respected her, for trying to save Isla. But that wouldn’t last forever, Clarke would have to fight eventually. Or surrender.

‘Are you alright? Come on, I’ll get you to the others.’ Clarke took the fallen knife, tucked it into her belt and offered out her hand to Isla. The girl accepted, pulled herself up and Clarke led the way back.

**

Efana was defeated by Brell, in the end. Afra managed to take down Devian, before the two turned on each other. The sound of swords clashing told Clarke she was close to the danger, creeping forward and admiring their form. Both were good, far more practiced than she had first thought. Afra had some quite severe injuries, while Brell still maintained her perfect armour.

She finally found a relatively good weapon, a sword that she picked up and slid into her belt, taking another step closer. Brell lunged, misjudged the distance and promptly toppled, Afra spinning her around and straight into the rubble. The crunch was notable, Clarke wincing in sympathy when the girl’s nose started to pour blood. Afra wasn’t done, rose his blade and dug it between her shoulder blades, before pausing.

She tapped out of the fight, the ping sounding as she stripped off her belt. Now, with just the three of them left, Clarke had decided it was her job to support Afra in becoming Heda.

‘Afra.’ She jogged down to him, watched him smile at her.

‘Wanheda. Is Isla…’

‘She’s fine. Everyone is, no deaths in this Conclave.’ He nodded, wiped blood from his brow and grinned at her.

‘You did well, convincing the others. Protecting Isla over yourself was noble.’

_Wanheda, one life for all the others that died._

‘It was nothing.’ She stated, reaching to admire the cut on his arm. He let her put pressure on it, before she gave a smile.

‘You’ll live, now we need to find Vandrah before…’ She was cut off by a warm spray of blood, splashing over her skin. Clarke halted, eyes flicking to the arrow sticking out of Afra’s neck, before he dropped onto her.

Clarke only just about managed to roll out from under him, gagging at the taste in her mouth. Covered, drenched in red, the smell overpowering.

Dead. Afra was dead, and that left…

‘I told you I’d come for you, Clarke.’ Vandrah held his sword lazily, a smile on his face as he took another step towards her.

He would become the new Heda. That wasn’t the plan, the Heda was supposed to be someone strong. Someone who could live up to Lexa’s legacy.

The mention of the Old Commander had Clarke’s mind snapping into action, drawing her sword slowly.

‘I won’t let you become Heda.’ She snapped, tightening her grip and raising the blade. Afra was dead, after he’d listened to her rule of blood must not have blood. Emotions, she’d let her concern for him stop her from checking all possible places around her. She’d been the one to blame for his death.

‘Then come and take it from me.’ He goaded, and she did just that.

**

When Clarke had decided she wanted to learn to fight, dummy had been her friend. She built the contraption to beat up, to let her anger out. It was a good idea at the time, even if it had spikes and attacked her. Every time she needed it, every time the gun got too tempting, she would go to the dummy. Then came Seda, who was the first thing she could fight and try to win.

Fighting a human was different. Vandrah was good, his movements fluid and his abilities far exceeding hers. Still, she was no longer the Clarke that avoided fights.

If she had to kill one man, to keep Wonkru safe, then she would do it. Vandrah hadn't hesitated to kill Afra, he would have done the same to Echo, or Octavia, or Isla.

His sword sliced through the air, but Clarke was prepared. Her muscles quickly adjusted to the change, to the fight she was going to win.

Lexa had been incredible when she fought. Clarke figured that she looked like a clumsy child, swiping her sword and blocking blows from the Warrior in front. She feinted left, tried to swipe at the soft point at his knees, grimacing when he managed to bring his sword down.

Her arm blocked it, but it hurt. She gasped, the slice ached, shredding her sleeve as blood dripped freely.

Vandrah had gone very still, eyes focused on the wound.

‘ _Natblida_.’ Black blood. Clarke snarled, lunging for him and clashing their swords together, before pushing her bodyweight into the blow. He went tumbling, knocked her blade so she dropped it, then promptly grabbed her ankle and sent them tumbling. While she reached for a sword, he reached for a stone that was closer, bringing it down on her leg.

She screamed when something snapped, when pain flared so brightly that she almost lost consciousness. No, she’d been burned alive, this was nothing.

A hand closed around her throat, lifting her up until she was on her tiptoes, gasping for air.

‘Wanheda, you fought well. Did your old girlfriend teach you that?’

_Emotions, Clarke, are never a benefit._

Rage swept through her like Praimfaya, and Clarke didn’t need a weapon.

She shoved her thumbs straight into his eye sockets, heard him scream and drop her as he tumbled. Not that Clarke was done, she kicked him straight in the chest, then twisted and aimed for his neck as the second kick sent him to the floor. She was on him in an instant, reaching for his throat like she would do with prey.

Human skin was easier to break, and sometimes, Clarke forgot that she had spent a long time as a Panther, not a human. Under her nails, the skin broke, and Vandrah was bleeding out just as Afra had done. A clumsy hand brought a rock up, managed to get a it to the side of her face, enough to split her cheek.

_Wanheda, he’s dead._

She rose her head slowly, looked to where the other Conclave fighters had been standing. She had to be drenched in blood, standing there with her cheek dripping dark over the ground.

Penn was the first to drop to his knee. Brell, then Efana. The others, slowly dropping down until there was nobody left, even Octavia taking a knee.

‘The victor, Klarke Kom Louwoda Kliron Kru.’ Penn announced, raising his head to nod to her.

This was not the plan.

‘We must prepare you for the ascension.’

_The Commander of Death has people once more._


	12. Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ascension, plus some fluff for our new Commander

The jeep was emptier on the way back. Clarke stayed silent, stared down at her hands that were still covered in blood. Death, she’d killed a man, even though she was supposed to be changing.

_It’s addictive, Wanheda._

No, she would not let her past mistakes guide her. They were at peace, Wonkru did not need a strong leader, they just needed someone to get them started. Even she could manage that.

‘Heda, allow me.’ Brell reached for the cut on her arm, and Clarke did not flinch this time. She watched the woman wrap it, before the Desert Clan leader looked up to her. Hands trailed to her leg, which wasn’t broken, but Clarke suspected she’d need to keep it wrapped for a while.

‘You did not tell us you were a _natblida_.’ She barely knew this woman, yet all of a sudden, Brell was acting like a friend. Clarke wished she’d never entered the Conclave, let alone stood up to Vandrah. Why had she let it get this far?

_Because you’re a coward._

That wasn’t true.

_There’d be a bullet in your brain if you weren’t._

Maybe it was true.

‘I was made into one, to test…’ She halted, remembered the lab and Praimfaya. ‘It was the reason I survived Praimfaya.’ Brell nodded, taking a seat opposite her.

‘Thank you, for saving us from Vandrah.’ Her words were accompanied by nods around the jeep, Octavia and Echo being the only ones that weren’t in the back.

‘You’ll make a good Heda.’ Devian agreed, and Clarke swallowed down bile. No she wouldn’t, these people had no idea what she had done. The lives she had lost.

‘Plus, you can take the Flame, unlike any of us.’

Lexa.

The Flame, Lexa was part of it. If Clarke truly was to become Commander of Wonkru, then she would be able to speak to Lexa. Maybe then, the Commander could teach Clarke how to shut off the emotions. To keep her friends safe, before she ended up killing everyone.

**

Climbing from the jeep, Clarke looked to the Shallow Valley inhabitants. They cleared a path, bowed down to her as she moved through them, with Brell at one side and Efana on the other. She spotted her Mom, could see that she wanted to come running. There was Bellamy, who came walking towards her, before halting.

‘Clarke.’ She’d killed someone. She had blood all down her, and most of it wasn’t hers. Commander of Death, killing anything that got too close.

‘I…’

‘Heda, come. We must prepare you for the ascension.’ Brell firmly stated, while Efana moved towards Gaia. The girl was smiling at Clarke, reassuring her, but none of this was right.

Clarke was not meant to be Heda.

She turned away from Bellamy, looking to Brell.

_Lexa was good, because she was ruthless._

She followed, unable to do anything to stop the sinking in her gut.

**

The stream was cold. She stripped down, washed at the blood until she was sure it was gone, until there was nothing more than pale skin and silvery lines. Seda and the Cubs had followed her, seemingly understood that Clarke needed them. Her hands tracked over the wounds she had received, pausing on her leg where the stone had hit. She’d take something for that later.

When she climbed from the water, it was to find Brell waiting, clothes in hand.

Not her clothes. Leathers and straps and fabrics that were dark. She dressed in silence, let the woman comb out her matted hair.

‘The blue suits you better than red, Heda.’ She did not respond, waited until her hair was braided and then looked back to the Desert Clan Warrior.

Brell stretched out her hand, uncurling her fingers to reveal the forehead piece that used to be Lexa’s.

_Commander of Death._

Trembling fingers picked it up, slowly raising it and then looking to her new friend. Brell smiled warmly, an approving nod aimed at her.

‘Come, Commander. Wonkru is ready for your ascension.’

**

Bellamy felt his heart break, when he saw the coldness on her face. Clarke moved down the aisle with no signs of the limp he was expecting, the members of Wonkru that had gathered to watch the new Commander ascend bowing as she moved through them.

They’d watched it, all of it. The moment where Clarke lost her friend, the moment that she began to fight. When her blood dripped from her arm, the thing they’d feared the most. Apparently, it did not matter that it was artificial.

Clarke reached Gaia, turned to him and for a moment, he could have sworn he saw the terror on her face. The same look he saw when she faced the Grounders, the Mountain Men, when she was against A.L.I.E.

But it was gone, and Clarke was turning back to Gaia. Kneeling down, the candles around the room lighting this moment.

He had not realised how much Clarke knew about Grounder traditions. That she could recite each Commander by name, and Clan, like it was something she had grown up with all her life. Only when she reached Lexa, did she falter.

‘Commander Lexa… Lexa Kom Trikru.’

The Flame was removed from the box, while Gaia asked if she agreed to such a thing. It had not been expected that the Heda would wield the Flame, because of the lack of Nightblood. But Clarke could, and she nodded without hesitation. Two words, that was all it took for the strands to descend, before the chip was placed to the back of her neck.

Clarke didn’t make a sound, not until she rose back up and turned to Wonkru.

‘The new Heda of Wonkru, Klarke.’ Bellamy watched as Wonkru bowed, as Clarke inclined her head back to them in respect. His Clarke, the one he loved so badly, gone.

**

Murphy knew that Clarke would not talk if she knew that they were close enough to listen. But if she didn’t know, then it wasn’t his issue. He took another step towards her, the first moment they had alone since he went to Space.

‘Clarke.’ He could see it in her eyes, the fear that was overpowering.

‘Murphy.’ She stood up, moved down the steps and then faltered, like she wasn’t sure what drove her to move.

‘Where’s the gun?’ He’d gone back to her hut, only to find it moved from the spot. Proof enough that she wasn’t quite as stable as he had hoped.

‘I… you don’t understand.’ He did, all too well, and she knew that. The thing that separated them was that he had Emori, and Clarke had… Death. A lot of it, but it wasn’t her fault. No matter what he may have said, he knew that she was doing her best.

‘Then explain it.’ He stated coldly, even if he wanted to go to her. Team Cockroach, that was what they were, and if the others were too afraid to push Clarke, he’d be the bad guy.

‘I never wanted this.’ She whispered, tears threatening to spill.

‘I just… I bring death, Murphy. Always, it’s always the same. Everyone dies. You… you saw it.’

‘Lexa.’ He had seen it, watched as Clarke’s heart broke again.

‘I can’t be Commander.’ Yes she could, they all knew that. Clarke was the best of all of the options for Conclave, not that he’d tell her that.

‘You are Commander.’

‘They’ll die.’

‘We’re safe, Clarke. There’s no threat. No Mountain, no War, no radiation coming to kill us.’ The last bit wasn’t true, the radiation had already killed a part of Clarke. The part that held her sane.

For a moment, he thought he’d got through to her. But then laughter was heard outside, Wonkru still celebrating their new Heda, and Clarke was gone. Shutting down once more, away from where he could help.

‘It’ll be fine.’ She confirmed, and Murphy sighed.

He didn’t bother saying anything else, turned and walked away. If anybody could get through to her now, it would be Bellamy.

**

Clarke knocked on the door, unsure of why she was doing this. Why she was putting herself in a situation where she might bring death. Bellamy looked startled, rose off his bed and looked at her with that smile, the one that meant she was welcome here. Even after killing someone in the Conclave.

‘Clarke.’ She stepped into the room, briefly looked around. Her sketches were in the same place that she had left them, all apart from the one of her, which Bellamy had moved closer to his bedside.

‘I never got the chance to thank you, for all of this.’ He gestured to his room, and Clarke shrugged.

‘It was nothing. I thought… you deserved something nice, after Space.’ She wanted him to hug her. She wanted to fall into his arms and be able to cry, to tell him that she had never been more alone. That she was terrified of herself, of what she was becoming. That she might be a danger to herself, with the gun that was now in the Church.

Her new home, so her Pride had come with her.

‘I meant it, you know. About missing you.’ Bellamy took another step, while Clarke tried to keep her muscles relaxed. She did not need to flee, Murphy had been right. They were at peace, Bellamy wasn’t going to get hurt.

‘I missed you too. All of you, so much.’ Tears pricked at her eyes, especially when he gently reached for her, placed a hand down on her shoulder.

‘I’m sorry we left you alone, Clarke.’ That was all she could take, she stumbled forwards blindly, seeking the comfort she knew he’d provide.

Arms wrapped around her, stable and secure, gripping her tightly as she buried her head into his chest. Hiding, burying herself deep where nobody could pull her out, where she was safe. A hand in her hair, slowly reaching for the streak of blue and tracing it.

‘Blue suits you.’ He whispered, and Clarke choked out a laugh.

The hug seemed to last a lifetime, but she wasn’t going to pull away for anything.


	13. Settling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's becoming Heda, but it isn't smooth-sailing

_‘Clarke.’ She turned slowly, standing in the room back in Polis, the one that had been where she’d been dragged in front of Lexa._

_The Commander was standing in the doorway, dressed in the same clothing as the day she died. The only difference was the lack of a bullet wound in her stomach._

_‘Lexa.’ The name was breathed out easily, nothing more than a plea, and she took a step closer._

_‘You’ve done well, Wanheda.’ Lexa remarked, but there was a soft smile on her face that Clarke longed for. She reached out, before halting._

_This wasn’t actually real._

_‘I don’t know what to do, Lexa! I was never meant to become Commander, I just wanted to keep Isla safe, and I don’t even know how to be a Lead…’ She was cut off when Lexa took her hand, squeezing it gently._

_‘Trust me. Trust us.’ Clarke turned at Lexa’s command, finding the room filled with people._

_‘Bekka Pramheda.’ The woman rose her head, and Clarke smiled slowly._

_‘You aren’t alone, Clarke. Not anymore.’_

**

She woke up gasping, Seda growling low to alert her she wasn’t alone.

‘Heda.’ Indra stood in the doorway, and Clarke forced her panic down. Indra was a Warrior, had been at Lexa’s side. But she also was Octavia’s mentor, not Clarke’s. She had no interest in stealing her away, rose sharply and looked to the woman.

‘Indra. Is there something I can do for you?’ She rose from the blankets she had been curled in, away from her Pride and towards her jacket. Instead of reaching for it, she picked up the sheath for her dagger, strapping it around her thigh.

‘I thought I would run you through what was required of a newly appointed Heda.’ Indra was trying to help her, she realised. But why? Octavia was her trainee, not Clarke.

‘I delegate the leadership roles, appoint my council and begin training my second. Be seen by the people, make sure they’re comfortable with my role.’ Indra looked impressed, momentarily, a small smile crossing her face.

‘You continue to surprise me, Heda.’

‘You don’t need to call me that.’ She was not a leader, even if she was supposed to be. Indra just inclined her head, before nodding to the door.

‘There’s already an argument over the training with weaponry.’ Of course there was. Clarke finished assembling her weapons, looked back to Seda, then to the Warrior in front.

‘I’ll be right there.’

**

As it turned out, assembling a Council was not that difficult. Each of the Conclave members represented the Clans, with Indra, Kane, Bellamy, Raven and Murphy taking positions as her chosen. The only person not there was Isla, for she was too young to sit on the appointed Council.

‘You cannot think that teaching them how to wield a weapon is the way for peace!’ Kane protested, the argument growing louder as the disagreement continued. In the Clans, back during Lexa’s leadership, it was essential that all learn how to wield a weapon, regardless of their duties.

‘You come from the Sky, how can you hope to understand!’ Devian snapped back at him, before Clarke held a hand for them to fall silent. They did, turning to look at her from the chair that was supposed to be for the new Heda.

_That’s you, remember?_

‘We will give the people the choice. Those who wish to wield a weapon, can learn to do so. Those that do not, can have just their primary job.’ It seemed a logical solution, earning some nods from the people around.

‘And disputes? How are old feuds settled, now that the Bunker’s rules are gone?’ Under Bloodreina, all feuds were settled in the name of surviving. Now, with peacetime surrounding them, there was the right to fight once more.

‘As they were before. Brought to their Clan Leader’s attention, and if necessary, to me.’ Penn bowed his head in understanding, before Clarke looked back around the table.

‘Does anyone have anything else to raise?’ That was a no, and Clarke had survived her first Council.

_‘There’s an expectation to start training.’_

Lexa’s remark came from somewhere inside her head, faint, but reminding Clarke of the dream she’d had the night before.

‘Dismissed.’

**

‘Quicker.’

Wooden poles, as it turned out, were a good starting point for displays of strength. Isla threw herself into the attack, Clarke blocking the blows but encouraging her forward, until the girl eventually doubled over to pant.

Quite a few people had come to watch the spectacle, but Clarke didn’t mind. She was training not only her, but the other children that she’d gone to collect from the Clans. It had been Lexa’s idea, a faint reminder that these children would be her legacy one day, and so Wanheda turned back to them.

‘An impressive start. Next?’ A young boy came forward, wielding a blunt knife that didn’t look very threatening. Still, he was a member of Trikru, the largest of the surviving Clans. He fought with energy, but little practice, and it didn’t take long for her to disarm him.

Once she had them partnered up, Clarke took a moment to step back.

‘You’re doing well.’ Brell came up to her, standing by her side and watching the children fight.

‘You seem surprised.’ That had the woman laughing, before she gestured to the swords.

‘Could I have the honour of fighting you, Heda? Your moves in the Conclave were impressive.’ Clarke paused, showing favour to one Clan over others would be a dangerous thing. Yet Brell had helped her, especially with Isla, and so she owed her respect. Plus, with her leg strapped, she could barely feel the pain of her last fight.

‘Pick your weapon.’ While Brell chose, Clarke scanned the surroundings for the other Conclave members. Most were still doing the tasks she had set them, getting the people organised into the roles of farming, foraging, building and hunting, but Efana was with her Clan.

‘Efana.’ She came without hesitation, pausing when she spotted Brell picking up a weapon.

‘Heda?’

‘Care to join?’ Clarke had no fear that the two could beat her, moved across to draw her sword. The children, sensing the oncoming fight, had halted and made space for them.

‘Two against one? Hardly seems fair.’ Brell teased, but she was asking a genuine question. They may support her because of what she did to Vandrah, but they did not want to make her seem weak.

_You’ve done far worse._

Clarke beckoned them on, focusing on the sword in her hand as Efana lunged.

Like Vandrah, they were highly skilled. Fighting to prove something to all those watching, that they were worthy of being Clan leaders.

Clarke was fighting to prove to herself that she was worthy of this job. That she had learned to fight for a reason, to make herself a person that could survive her version of Hell. She thought of Praimfaya, of being alone for so long.

_If you can make yourself worthy, does it make it better?_

She was worthy. Worthy of still breathing, and if she could prove to Wonkru that she was a Leader, then maybe she could last long enough to see the next Leader.

Efana hit hard, whereas Brell was smooth. The two of them worked in tandem to attack, swiping cleanly and aiming for the spots where it would hurt the most. For every step they tried to take, Clarke would attack with twice the precision. She had been alone for so long, thinking to all the human interaction she’d ever had, that it was simple to predict and plan.

When Efana lost her blade, she used her hands. Punches and kicks, far stronger than Clarke first anticipated. It was no bother, she let Efana get close enough to draw her in, to wrap a leg around her waist and swing herself up, taking them both to the ground and knocking the air from the Warrior. She rose up off of Efana, only to find a blade sailing in her direction.

She caught it with her hand, a stunned gasp coming from her attacker.

It hurt, sure. It stung as she wrapped her fingers around the sword, deep enough for blood to well up as she shoved it away, brought her knee up to Brell’s stomach, reached for her shoulder and threw the girl into her bodyweight. Brell went sailing over her, down into the dirt below, and Clarke gripped her sword-arm and twisted, pressed a foot lightly to her chest to keep her pinned.

Efana stayed down, and Brell looked up with wide eyes.

She stepped back, offering out her hand to the woman, who accepted it.

‘You fight like the last Commander.’ Efana stated, and Clarke took it as a compliment.

_‘She’s telling the truth, Clarke. I’m proud of you.’_

**

‘I am worthy.’ She scrubbed at her face, before looking back to the mirror.

‘I should be here.’

_Should you?_

‘I can do this.’

‘Clarke?’ She stumbled away from the mirror, turned to find Raven in the doorway. She quickly straightened, hid her injured hand behind her back.

‘Raven. Hey.’ The mechanic looked around the small room that Clarke had set up for herself in the Church, pausing on the knife by the sink. Clarke looked to it, trying to remember why exactly she’d brought it with her to the mirror.

_To see if a monster could bleed._

‘We were wondering if you wanted to join us for lunch? Abby’s worried you’re not eating enough.’ When was the last time she had eaten? It was a good point, and Clarke slowly surrendered to the fact that her friend might be right.

_All your friends die._

‘Sure, sounds good.’

**

It was almost like nothing had changed. The teasing, the easy familiarity between the group. Kane’s casual praising of how she handled herself in the Council meeting, the thanks for being included to her Council. Octavia telling her how impressed she was by the fight, Echo asking if she could join her at some point.

She stared at the food she had been given, and opted for the plants. The meat wouldn’t settle well on her stomach.

‘Why’d you put Murphy on the team?’ Raven joked, while the others looked amused.

‘Needed a bad guy?’ Monty added, a little too seriously, and Clarke’s head snapped up.

_Murphy’s not the bad guy, is he, Wanheda?_

Murphy was staring at her, right at her, before his gaze drifted to the hand she’d injured. A silent understanding, and Clarke laughed along with the joke, before Bellamy shifted closer to her.

‘We were thinking we could go out tonight, see the Shallow Valley under the stars?’ Clarke glanced to the sky, then shook her head.

‘A storm will be here by the evening. The rain will burn more than usual, you should stay inside.’ The air tasted of it, the dangerous storm heading from the sands, taking the water left on the earth and mixing it with enough acid to burn.

‘We should spread the word.’ Kane finally said, and she realised they were staring at her again.

‘I’ll have Brell and Efana do it.’ Clarke decided, stood up and thanked them for the lunch. Nobody pointed out she’d only eating the greens.

**

With the rain moments from falling, Clarke went in search of her friends. She found them huddled in a doorway, clearly panicking, Emori and Octavia looking ready to punch Kane, which was proof that something had happened.

‘What’s wrong?’ Clarke asked, Octavia’s face showing relief at her being here. Weird, she thought it would be awkward between the two of them, now that she was Heda.

‘It’s Bellamy and Murphy. They went out to the Valley.’ For a moment, Clarke didn’t see the problem. Then she breathed in, tasted the scent of the storm, heard the rumble from the sky above.

‘Stay here. I’ll find them.’ Clarke assured, surprised when Octavia’s hand came to rest on her shoulder.

‘I can help…’

‘You’ll burn in the rain. Stay inside, I can reach them.’ She’d have to, because a storm’s radiation was so much worse, they’d be in pain.

‘Be safe, Clarke.’ Her Mom stated, while Raven offered to go and find some protective clothing. There wasn’t enough time, the rain was already starting to slowly fall.

Clarke left the church, whistled to the empty clearing and watched as Seda appeared. Unlike her, rain didn’t affect her Pride. Their coat protected them, water rolling straight from the sleek fur, which was a benefit in this situation.

She mostly used hand-signals to convey her needs, a couple of clicking sounds to emphasise the need for them to hurry.

‘Bellamy, Murphy.’ She said their names aloud, not that Seda would be bothered by such a thing. The Panther turned to the forest, before racing away from her. Kappa and Kepplei followed, Osleya looking up at her and waiting for orders.

‘Together.’ The Panther followed her lead.


	14. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Team Cockroach, Pantherkru, and bad news

‘Shut up, Murphy.’ It wasn’t the first time he’d been told that, on this walk into the forest.

‘It’s your guilt, not mine.’ Alright, that bit was a lie. Murphy felt guilty for leaving Clarke to die, for everything that had happened since, and the fact that they had not told Clarke they had listened to her for five years.

‘I said…’

‘Shut up, yeah. I got it.’ He stepped over another tree branch, looking to the sky and wondering why they had come out this far. He understood that Bellamy needed some space, that he had seen the fight between Clarke and her new buddies. Had watched blood drip from her hand with barely a wince from the new Commander.

‘What if we can’t save her?’ It was a running pattern, Clarke saving the entire world, and them being left behind to pick her up when she crumbled. Murphy would never admit that he cared for the Princess, but he wouldn’t be out here listening to Bellamy’s pining for no reason.

‘She’s still our Clarke.’ Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, turning to face him slowly.

‘Is she?’

‘You mean is she the girl you left to die? That’s what this is all…’ He was cut off by Bellamy shoving him back, the topic was a rather sensitive one. A forearm pressed across his throat, pinning him to the tree, but Murphy knew that he wouldn’t actually do anything.

‘I did what I had to.’

‘She knows that.’ Murphy felt slightly awkward with the tears that were in Bellamy’s eyes, watched the man release his grip and step back.

‘Then why do I feel so guilty?’ Because it was Clarke, the girl he was in love with? Not that saying that was a good idea, either.

‘Because she was hurting, and you couldn’t save her.’ Murphy patted Bellamy’s shoulder, just to try and end this conversation, before something hit the back of his hand.

It burned. He snatched it back, gasping at the pain that raced up his arm, before it happened again.

‘The rain.’ Bellamy muttered, just as the sky above them rumbled.

Brilliant.

**

Clarke had never run faster, dashing between the trees and following her Pride as they led her towards the idiots. The rain was picking up now, and pretty soon, they’d be in danger of a dose of radiation that would leave them immobilised for a couple of days.

She spotted Bellamy first, who at least was wearing a jacket.

‘Bellamy! Murphy!’ Seda had reached Bellamy’s side, and she had never been more relieved to see them.

‘Back to the Village, run!’ She grabbed Bellamy’s hand first, then Murphy’s, tugging them to speed up. They didn’t argue, the rain was now lashing down around them, and Clarke had to get them out of the rain.

_Burning, Wanheda. Like you._

She wouldn’t leave them to burn. Bellamy was stumbling, but Murphy was worse. Short sleeves, his arms open to the sting of the rain, and when he fell, Clarke had been expecting it.

‘Go! Bellamy go! I’ve got him!’ She screamed, watched as the man hesitated, before Seda made the decision for him and grabbed his jacket, pulling him towards the Church.

She turned to Murphy, stripping off her jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders. The pain in his eyes was what drew her to tears, dragging him up and taking one side of his body.

‘C’mon, Murphy, almost there.’

**

Raven stood in the doorway of the Church, waiting for them to return.

‘Where are they?’ Octavia snapped, impatient, staring out to the rain that was now lashing down to the ground. The Village was being soaked, and when Raven had dared to reach her hand out, it had burned.

They spotted Bellamy first. Being dragged by one of Clarke’s Panthers, until he stumbled into the Church and both Raven and Octavia reached for him. Touching the jacket was a bad idea, the rain on it stung, so they had to wait for him to shrug it off.

‘Where’s Murphy?’ Emori demanded, as Kane helped Bellamy to his feet.

‘Coming. He… Clarke’s got him.’ They waited. And waited some more.

When the duo appeared, it was instantly clear that Murphy was not okay. He was slumped over Clarke, who appeared to have little difficulty carrying someone who was a lot heavier than her, making it to the Church and pushing past them.

‘Space, give me some space.’ Emori ignored her to begin with, rushing to Murphy’s side.

Clarke clicked her tongue, and all of a sudden, the Panthers that were usually the most docile of creatures were turning on them. Growls, teeth bared as they drew a line between the duo and the rest, Emori backing away with her hands raised.

**

Clarke didn’t care that they would hate her for it. She even dared to bare her teeth when someone moved forward, knowing that if they touched him, they would be burned as well. She found her knife, sliced off Murphy’s shirt and then the trousers, looked to Seda for assistance.

‘Flowers.’ The Panther inclined her head, vanishing, and Clarke looked to the group. No, they’d be too slow, the main supply of water was held in the building opposite the church.

‘Hold on, Murphy. Osleya, don’t let anyone near him.’ Clarke rose up quickly, moved through the people waiting and back into the rain.

It didn’t burn her as much, she could make it to the water supply and pick up a container, before rushing back to the Church.

Murphy was awake now, but very much in pain. Gasping, hands digging into the floor as his body absorbed the deadly doses of acidic rain.

She didn’t pause with dumping the entire container over his head, listened to him splutter like a wet fish as she drowned him in the clean, medicated water.

Seda was back, with the flowers Clarke needed, but the Commander was too busy reaching for Murphy.

‘Look at me, no, Murphy! At me, not them.’ She cradled his cheek, realised this was the closest she had been to anybody since Praimfaya, straddled over one of his legs as she tried to get him to concentrate on her.

‘W’you, Princess.’ He slurred, and Clarke bit back a sob.

‘Easy, the burning will fade.’ She took the flowers from Seda, held them to Murphy’s mouth and waited for him to eventually open.

He didn’t look impressed with the flavour, chewed on them while she studied his eyes for any signs of irritation. Just a little, she’d have one of the Cubs find her medical kit.

‘Kappa, get my kit from the room. Kepplei, something warm please.’ Both vanished, not understanding the words, but the hand signals she used to accompany the command. Murphy was shuddering, skin breaking out in tiny little flushes where the rain had hit in larger doses, and she would make sure he kept eating the flowers for a while.

Then she realised that they were both sitting in the massive puddle of water that had been left from Clarke giving him an impromptu shower, and it made her snort with laughter.

‘What’s funny, Princess?’ Murphy grumbled, while Clarke moved back off his thigh and settled by his side.

‘You being a drowned rat?’ She offered, thanked Kepplei for the blanket he had brought, wrapping it around Murphy’s shoulders. He looked annoyed, then paused, studying her curiously.

‘It doesn’t burn you?’ Kappa handed her the kit, which she began to rummage through.

‘I got used to it. It was a lot worse after Praimfaya.’

‘But you didn’t have a shelter.’ He pointed out, while she found the eye drops that she’d made down in the lab. She snorted, reached back for his head and tilted it back so she could administer them.

‘After the fire, I was more concerned with the burns. The rain tickled compared to that.’ When she was satisfied, she replaced the satchel and stood up.

‘You’ll be fine, just keep drinking the medicated water, with a little extra dose in between. Same goes for you, Bellamy.’ She finally turned her attention to him, took note of the slight flush to his cheeks. He’d be alright. They both would.

‘Medicated?’

‘I add the anti-toxin to the water.’ Clarke provided the information to her Mom, then turned to Emori.

‘I am sorry for snapping, I just needed to get the water off him. It can stick on the skin for a while.’ Murphy was standing up, wrapping the blanket around him but still dripping all over the floor like a wet dog.

‘It’s alright. Thank you, for saving him.’ Emori offered a smile, before Octavia cut in.

‘Both of them.’ It was getting slightly too much for Clarke, so she settled for a brief nod, before turning to her Pride.

‘Time to Hunt?’ Seda growled in agreement, moving towards the doors, and Clarke followed behind her.

‘Clarke! Wait, what about the rain?’ Abby questioned, but Clarke just shrugged.

‘It’s refreshing.’

**

The Panther lunged at her, but Clarke was quicker, she dropped back, watched the claws and teeth go sailing overhead, before she stuck out her bare foot to give her more leverage. It worked, her toes curled in the dirt before she swung her body around to kick the oncoming Cub. Another hit from the side, legs wrapping around the creature and flipping over the top.

The rain had slicked the floor of the Village, enough so that she almost stumbled when she landed, knees bending to take the force of the blow. Her hair was soaked, plastered to the thin shirt she was wearing, and she flipped it back and admired her attackers.

Seda waited patiently on the outskirts, while Kappa nursed his pride from her earlier attack. It left just Osleya and Kepplei, the two circling her as she prepared herself for their attack. No weapons, nothing but what she had naturally, and Clarke enjoyed it this way.

Kepplei lunged, and Clarke responded with the same vigour. A hand to the muzzle, gripping fur and yanking, while she dodged those nasty claws. She slammed the Cub into the Well in the centre of the Village, then rolled them both into the wet mud beneath them. A faint flicker of light from the open doors of the Church, where she was sure she had observers. In fact, she was pretty sure that most of the Village were watching.

Kepplei yowled as her nails connected with his flank, kicking her back until she went rolling into the dirt. She played it off smoothly, until she was steadying herself with one hand in the dirt, both knees bent ready to pounce.

Osleya was her favourite, didn’t hold back with her claws. They grazed her shoulder, but Clarke had time to practice these moves. She kicked out, then quickly let her hands join the fight, blocking the swing of a paw, before Kepplei was charging.

She lifted off with little starting energy, flipping her body and tucking knees in so she didn’t forget them, like she had when she first practiced that move.

Her feet hit the dirt, Kepplei having run past, skidding in the dirt to try and stop. The storm rumbled, lightning momentarily illuminating the glowing eyes of her Pride, before she reached for the flank and pushed him down.

Seda’s bark told them to quit, and Clarke drew back. She was a mess, mud and rain soaking her form, her hair probably the same colour as the ground underfoot. Seda nursed each of her cubs, praised them for their fighting, before turning to her.

Clarke sunk to her knees slowly, her teacher approaching and pressing her head to Clarke’s. A moment of peace, of the storm vanishing as Clarke settled with the creature that saved her from her own mind.

‘I owe you everything, Seda.’ The Panther pulled back, made another sound that indicated she was ready to run.

Clarke rose, let her feet wiggle in the dirt, before scrutinising the nearest way to the water. That was always where they ran to, the waterfall and stream in the Valley, where they could wash away the dirt of training. The girl looked to her teacher, then to the Cubs, before the signal was given.

Running was fun. The mud was slick, but being barefoot allowed her the grip she needed to make the sprint.

The building in front was the log store, and Kepplei made the leap first. Up onto the ledge at the side, then onto the roof, before moving over and into the forest behind. Osleya went next, Kappa in quick succession.

When she first tried this, Clarke ended up on her back, winded and very bruised, Seda trying to hide the amusement at her fail.

This time, Clarke’s hands hit the corrugated metal under the wooden roof, pulled herself up and then, when her feet could find purchase on the ledge, she kicked off.

There was something about the movement that always got to her, tucking her head in as her legs came over, before she landed the movement with both feet planted firmly. Seda howled, letting her Cubs know that Clarke was in quick pursuit, and the Commander leapt from the building’s roof to follow her Pride.

**

Clarke walked into the Village, said good morning to all those that were out and about. She spotted the others, eating a hearty breakfast of the greens and leftover Bison meat, moved across to them with a grin.

‘Morning!’ She dumped the fish down on the side, nudged Bellamy’s shoulder and stole a piece of fish from his plate. He looked shocked, then pleased, while Octavia spoke up.

‘You’re in a good mood.’ It was the storm. Something about the freedom, about running until her lungs burst and diving into the lake at the bottom of the waterfall, about being with her Pride.

‘The Storm was a good one.’ She sat beside Raven, smiling to all of the group, snacking on the plate of food that was passed across. For once, she had worked up an appetite, finished the entire plate and licked her lips.

‘Storms should happen more often.’ Bellamy joked, while Murphy rolled his eyes.

‘Speak for yourself. I almost melted.’ A couple of glances to Clarke, like they expected her to react badly to the words. Instead, she reached for another piece of meat cooking over the fire, ripped into it and sighed.

It tasted good. She’d need to find a Bison again, there was a definite need for another one of those.

Down by the Lake, after she’d washed the mud off, Clarke could have sworn she’d seen Lexa again. Now, looking around the fire, she spotted the old Commander leaning against the Church.

_‘You did well, Clarke.’_

Peace. Maybe it wasn’t too hard, to be a Heda during peacetime. It certainly seemed like she could manage, and still have the friends around her. She even let her Mom pull her in for a hug, a kiss to her forehead that made her smile.

‘Commander! We’ve got an issue.’ Brell came jogging across, looked around the group, then back to Clarke, who pulled away from her Mom’s touch.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘There’s been a murder.’


	15. Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A murder, a trip to Bekka's lab, and Lexa continues to aid Clarke

The body was in the smoking house, and Clarke stood over it with a horrible feeling in her gut. To begin with, she was going to ask why Brell thought it a murder. Then she saw the foam around the man’s mouth, indication of the poison used to kill him.

 _‘His name is Maxi, from Trikru.’_ Lexa provided, staring down with a hard expression on his face. Clarke gave her a barely perceivable nod, looked to where Bellamy, Abby and Kane had entered the room.

‘His name is…’ Brell began, but Clarke finished the sentence.

‘Maxi. From Trikru.’ Brell looked mildly surprised, which had Lexa smiling slowly, while Clarke crouched down to admire the body.

‘He’s been dead no more than six hours. After the rain stopped.’ But how long did the poison take? She reached with a knife, cut the skin and collected a small sample of blood with a vial from her satchel.

‘Who found him?’

‘Another member of Trikru. Word spreads quickly, Heda…’

‘I understand. Have the body taken to the infirmary, and bring me everything you have.’ Clarke gave a nod to Brell, before leaving the room, turning to the people that had followed her.

‘We’ll need to identify the poison.’ Abby stated, looking at the vial that Clarke was holding.

‘And keep it quiet. The last thing we need is panic.’ Kane added to the conversation, while Clarke reached the fire.

‘Into the Church.’

**

‘I’ll go to the Lab, see if I can identify the poison. It might give an idea of who had access to it.’ Clarke stated, tucking the vial into her belt.

‘Who do you leave in charge as your second, Commander?’ Indra asked, and Clarke paused. She knew she was supposed to have a second, to have someone that could command in her absence. It was what she was raising Isla to be, if the girl wanted the position.

‘Brell, I trust you’ll keep Wonkru in order?’

_‘Good choice, Clarke.’_

The Warrior looked surprised, but bowed her head.

‘Of course, Commander.’

‘Efana, with me. And any of you that want to come.’ She amended, glancing to her friends. Bellamy was an obvious first, with Raven joining quickly. Murphy shrugged, taking a step forward, and Echo followed the trio.

With that sorted, Clarke headed in the direction of the jeeps.

**

She could tell they were surprised, climbed down the path she had made and into the lab. Her suit was where she had left it, with the cracked glass showing that had been responsible for the first lot of radiation burns. Clarke moved past it without halting, towards the lab that lay behind it. She’d left it relatively messy, but the equipment was all still working.

‘Woah.’ Efana looked impressed, spinning around the space and faltering when she noticed the fridge, with the glass door revealing…

‘Nightblood.’

‘It’s mine.’ Clarke offered, staring at the vials filled with her blood that she’d taken over the years.

‘What for?’ Raven asked, a mechanic she may be, but curious as to the reasoning behind the blood.

‘Experiments. I wanted to see how my blood reacted to different toxins.’ Clarke moved across to the bench, began preparing the slides.

‘Hopefully we can identify the poison.’ Efana stated, tracing the glass tank that still gave Clarke nightmares. She smeared the blood across the slide, reaching for the glass bottle in front.

‘A murder this quickly into a Commander’s reign, will it be a bad sign?’ Bellamy asked, standing at Clarke’s side. Murphy snorted, continued his inspection of Clarke’s suit, while Efana spoke up.

‘No. The old Commander lost Costia, and others, after her ascension.’ The mention of Lexa had the Commander appearing, and Clarke had begun to figure out it was her mind that kept summoning her forward. She briefly glanced to Lexa, then back to the slide.

‘Costia?’ Raven questioned, packing her bag full of equipment from the computers.

‘The lover of the Commander.’ Echo remarked in her usual toneless voice.

 _‘Azgeda._ ’ Lexa stated foully, making Clarke snort a laugh. When heads turned in her direction, she just shrugged.

‘But this is different. Not a kill of anger, or of pride. No Grounder would choose such a method.’ Efana’s remark had Bellamy tensing, the implication that it was one of Skaikru settling between the group. Clarke was beginning to have an idea of what they might be facing, moved to the fridge to receive previous samples.

If the poison was what she thought it was, then it had to be injected.

‘Maxi had no familial links to Trikru anymore, did he?’ Why kill someone in such a method?

 _‘Unless it was an experiment. Picking on someone without a family to avenge their death.’_ Lexa provided the thoughts already running through Clarke’s head, the girl nodding toward the Commander.

‘No.’ Efana confirmed. Clarke had a feeling there would be a second murder, because they had not been aiming to kill the person. Just to debilitate, it was a flower that had been altered with the radiation. A paralytic that Clarke recognised, slipping the vial back into her pocket.

‘I need to see the body.’

**

She emptied the room of everyone else, approached the table and removed the sheet. The body had been dressed in clothes ready for the fire, but Clarke was in search of proof. She removed the shirt first, eyes tracking over the skin until she spotted it. Bruising made post-mortem, the discolouration was all wrong.

This wasn’t meant to be a murder. But why did someone need a paralytic?

She dressed the body once more, before walking out and halting.

Wonkru, or the majority of it, gathered to hear her verdict on the matter. Brell came to her side, moved close enough that they could talk without the people hearing.

‘They’re angry. A murder… like this, it’s all wrong.’

But Clarke didn’t know how to comfort these people. She didn’t know what to say to them, to make the anger simmer, but not boil out into fighting. She hadn't even been Commander that long, and the majority of these people did not have the same customs as her.

 _‘Listen to me, Clarke, and trust.’_ Lexa stated calmly from somewhere in the back of her head, and Clarke did as she was told.

‘Earlier this morning, _Maxi kom Trikru_ was found, murdered by poison. Not only was this a cowardly method of anger, but it has brought with it a burden to Wonkru. A burden of death, hanging over us. I promise you, that whoever was responsible for this will be found and brought before the Council as a criminal, as a traitor of Wonkru.’ Clarke paused, while Lexa gave her a nod. She did not need encouragement for the next part.

‘ _Jus drein jus daun.’_ It was repeated by her people, a silent promise that they would find whoever had done this.

‘Well done, Commander.’ Brell stated, and Lexa echoed the words.

**

The body burned in the clearing, while Clarke thought back to the Conclave, where they had quickly made a fire for Afra and Vandrah. Three people dead, and she had only just become Commander.

_Commander of Death._

No. She would find the murderer, and she would bring them to justice, like any ruler would have done. Clarke looked to Seda, gave her Panther a quick nod, knowing that she would patrol the darkness and alert her to any signs of trouble.

‘You did well today.’ Bellamy stated, coming to her side. His arm brushed up against her, a reassuring touch that she leant into, until she could relax.

 _‘Enjoy your evening, Clarke.’_ Lexa was gone, vanishing, and Clarke looked up to Bellamy.

‘You didn’t do awfully either.’ She teased, watched him smile.

‘We’ll sort this out. Together.’

It sounded like a good plan.

**

‘One.’ Isla swung the stick with vengeance, her face set into a hard line.

‘Two.’ It moved upwards, a disarming motion that Clarke studied intently. One day, when Isla was bigger, she’d have her train with the Cubs. They’d provide her an invaluable lesson on the primal urges of a hunt, on how to defend against creatures that did not think like humans.

‘Three.’ The final step, a foot coming forwards and the stick blurring as it moved through the air.

Isla glanced up hopefully, a grin on her face.

 _‘She’s like a mini-you.’_ Clarke ignored Lexa’s remark, praised Isla for the movement and took the stick back from her. The girl grinned, before running back to the class of children learning, taught under Brell’s watch.

Clarke wandered through the Village, past the smoking house and in the direction of the Church, pausing when she reached the home that belonged to Vandrah’s Clan. She walked up to the door, knocked politely on it, deciding it was time to extend the olive branch.

A woman answered, introduced herself as Livia. Clarke stepped into the room, looked around the women that she had briefly met before. Seven of them in total, with five children that were apparently all out in the farming sector of the Village.

‘As you know, Vandrah was your Conclave representation. I’ll be looking for one of your Clan to sit on my Council.’ Just like Isla would sit for hers, when she was slightly older. Livia smiled, quickly made the introductions for all of the people around them.

It was shocking, to see a Clan with so few people left. The majority of those alive came from Trikru, Sankru or Azgeda, making up for around eight-hundred of the people that lived in the Village. Those left were split between the remainder, and she was wondering if there was a way to even out the spread of Clans.

Not that it mattered. They were Wonkru now, the Clans mattered less considering how some of them had been wrecked by the many threats they had faced.

Livia had a son, Clarke learned. She took note of it, according to the woman, he was twelve years of age. Two years older than Isla, and a perfect candidate to take over as their representative.

When she walked out of the Hut, she spotted Bellamy, Echo and Brell in deep conversation, the children forgotten.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that another body had been found, Clarke straightening her spine and wondering if there would be any of Wonkru left by the time she managed to secure her power.


	16. Team Cockroach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some feels, some more Brell/Clarke bonding, and then some very bad news

The mirror cracked as she punched it, the glass shattering and lodging into her knuckles as she stood in the wash-room. It did little to quell the rising panic, so Clarke pulled back her hand again and launched it forward. The pounding in her head got louder, the ache that came with seeing another dead body because of her stupidity. She was going to get Wonkru killed, all because she hadn't been brave enough to put a bullet in her brain.

Her name was Adana of Trikru.

She pulled back her hand, stared at the bloody shards in front of her. Black, dripping down the mirror and onto the porcelain below. She’d rescued this sink from Polis, even tried to hook it up to give running supplies of water to different parts of the Village.

This time, when she threw the punch, someone caught her elbow. She tried to fight, vaguely noted she was hitting someone on the shoulder, begging them to let her go as an arm wrapped around her stomach.

When she lost the panic, she was seated on the floor with Murphy by her side, the man holding her injured hand and staring at the mess she’d made.

‘I’m going to get them all killed.’ She whispered to the only person who could understand what it was like to constantly be the bad person in the tale. Murphy regarded her for a moment, before he stood up and left.

He returned with a medical kit, took the tweezers and reached for her hand.

‘Talk to me, Clarke.’

‘I can see Lexa.’ That wasn’t what she thought would come out, Murphy’s head shooting up.

‘The Flame, it… I can see her. Hear her. But she’s gone quiet, even she can’t help me in this situation.’ Murphy pulled a piece of glass out, concentrating on her hand.

‘You don’t need the Flame to be a good Commander, Clarke. You’re our leader for a reason.’

‘Because I have black blood? That would have been Emori, if I carried on being this… thing. Monster.’ She hissed in pain when he pressed antiseptic to the wounds, not bothering to be gentle with his movements. She’d always appreciated Murphy’s honesty, and it was proving to be invaluable now.

‘It isn’t the blood that makes you strong. You’re able to make decisions nobody else would dare.’ She’d killed hundreds. Possibly thousands. All that blood, slick on her hands, staining and dripping to the floor.

‘Do you see them? When you close your eyes, can you…’

‘Yes. That’s what makes us team Cockroach, Princess. We’re the ones that stick to our word.’ He reached for a bandage, slowly wrapping her hand and looking up.

‘Another person is dead.’

‘And you’ll avenge them. Have a little faith, Clarke. We believe in you.’ He looked so sure of himself, and Clarke felt tears build in her eyes.

‘You know something, Murphy?’ He paused, raising his head to study her.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ He held the stare for a moment, shock at her words, before ducking his head.

‘You save Wonkru. Let me worry about saving you.’

**

Octavia and Echo proved to be terrific Warriors. Clarke’s sparring session would have ended with her losing, had they not been slightly out of touch with each other. As it was, Echo proved to be all tactical training, Octavia brash energy. When she disarmed the younger, she turned to Echo and did the same, precise movements that ended with her hitting the wrist of the assassin.

She stumbled back, dropping the sword, looking impressed with Clarke. Good, she had been training for a long time.

‘Thank you. I needed that.’ Clarke stated, sheathing the sword that sat at her side and focusing on her injured hand. It was wrapped, under the fingerless gloves she was wearing to hide the show of weakness.

‘It’s going to be hot today.’ Octavia looked to the sky, and Clarke already knew the girl was planning on sunbathing.

‘It is. Octavia, will you serve as second while I’m gone? I’m taking Brell to do a little research on the poison.’ The girl nodded to the plan, before the trio turned back to where the group were working.

Kane, for some amusing reason, had taken to teaching the children. He told them stories of the Ark, of the history they had learned. Sometimes, when Abby wasn’t busying being a Doctor, she would join him.

‘Ready to go?’ Brell asked, appearing suddenly. She was dressed in her normal leathers, dark colours and her normal display of face paint.

‘Yep, let me just put the sword away.’

‘Are you sure you don’t need any more help?’ Echo questioned, while Clarke handed her sword across to her.

‘We’re good. I need you here, keeping an eye out for our murderer.’

**

Murphy followed her as she went to change, to go with Brell to find the location of the poison. He’d begun to notice moments when Clarke looked to the side, presumably to the location where she could see Lexa. Like now, Clarke’s gaze drifted away from him, to the space beside him.

‘What does Lexa think of this?’ Murphy’s job, in its simplest form, was to keep Clarke safe. He owed her a debt, but more than that, Clarke was the only one that had believed him in. Those words, that she was proud of him?

‘She thinks it’s something bigger. Once I know where the poison is, I can begin to shorten down those who could have done it.’ Clarke turned her back to him, stripped off the shirt she was wearing. Murphy’s eyes stayed on her back, mostly to stare at the silvery burns that stretched over her skin. That was partly because of him, and it made his gut tighten in pain.

‘We’ll find them, Clarke.’ She snorted a laugh, but it was broken-sounding. Death, it affected her badly.

‘Thank you, Murphy. For having faith.’ He remembered her expression when she placed the flowers to his mouth, holding them in place with such an anguish that Murphy couldn’t fight. Burning, she knew what it was like, and she had tried to save him from it.

‘Us bad guys have to stick together.’ He said, while Clarke cracked a smile. She reached for a knife, tucked it into the belt, and Murphy let her pass.

**

Clarke headed in Brell’s direction, before she spotted Emori. The girl was filleting the fish that Clarke had brought back this morning, after a late night run. But it was the two Grounders just to the side, heads close together and words she couldn’t quite pick up on that drew her attention. Emori looked uncomfortable, evidently trying not to show it, and Clarke moved around the back of the building.

‘We’re letting the deformed in, what next?’ Clarke reached for her knife, moving very calmly to the one that had spoken.

He did attempt to fight, but it didn’t take very long for her to disarm him and kick the back of the man’s knees. He dropped down, Clarke gripping his hair and yanking his head back, until she could press the blade to it.

Emori halted, looking to Clarke in shock, but the Commander didn’t startle.

‘Strange, I could have sworn it’s my decision who I allow in Wonkru.’ Clarke kept her tone calm, like she was discussing the weather. Her movement had drawn Echo’s attention, who had disappeared, probably to fetch the others. Judgement, the last thing she needed.

‘Commander, I…’

‘You are Wonkru, or you are not. Perhaps I could slice an ear off, or some fingers, and see if your view changes?’ She dug the knife in deeper, until blood beaded up to the touch. The other man was slowly bowing his head, and Clarke looked between them.

‘Forgive me, Commander.’ Deeper once more, Clarke tightening her grip in his hair.

‘Not what I’m looking for.’ It took him a moment, but he got it.

‘Forgive me, Emori.’ The woman nodded slowly, and Clarke pulled the knife back, kicked him down to the ground.

‘Next time, I’ll have your tongue.’ She snarled, and the man scampered quick enough that she knew he would not make the same mistake twice.

Brell had appeared, looking to the fleeing men, then back to Clarke.

‘Everything okay, Commander?’ She shrugged, pocketed the knife and headed towards her.

‘Fine. Just keeping check.’ A hand closed around her wrist, Emori having left her filleting job to come to her side.

‘Clarke, I… nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. Thank you.’ And then the girl was hugging her, and Clarke found herself hugging back. It felt good, to be held, to comfort someone. When she pulled back, she smiled.

‘You’re family, Emori.’

**

‘It would take forever to walk.’ Clarke explained, lowering her head and stretching her hand out, trying not to look threatening. The horse took another step, and she had done this dance enough to know that the mare would let her come closer. She moved her hand from the muzzle, up along the jaw.

‘Do you have every animal trained?’ Brell asked in amusement, while Clarke’s hand moved along the flank. The mare held still while she gripped the mane, mounting in a quick movement. She needed no saddle, nor a bridle. Over the years, Clarke had learned to appreciate those around her. The animals, the plants, everything.

‘Just a couple.’ Clarke shot back, offering out her arm to the Warrior. She accepted, slid up behind her and hesitantly placed a hand on her hip.

‘Now, to the Northern Valley.’

**

‘Do you know who did it?’ Brell asked, Clarke rubbing the leaf between her thumb and finger. They’d rode to the Northern part of the Valley, up to where the Lake was, and the ridge of rocks had proved home to the deadly purple plant that had caused two deaths in her Clan. Maxi of Trikru, Adana of Trikru. The same circumstances, but an altered dosage between them.

‘I’m getting there.’ Clarke admitted, with only a few pieces of the puzzle left to sort out. She cut a piece of the plant, pocketing it into a small vial for the same travel back, before looking to the sun.

It was swelteringly hot, almost as bad as it got in the deserts after Praimfaya. Her gaze flicked to her friend, then to the Lake, before she made a decision.

‘A quick swim?’ Brell seemed thankful for the chance to escape the confining leathers she had worn, while Clarke was just happy for the refreshing water. This was one of her favourite spots, she often came here with her Pride, but had never been with another human yet.

Brell made a logical choice for Clarke’s second. She was an accomplished Warrior, plus she’d been in Lexa’s eye before when the Old Commander had been in charge of the alliance.

‘Was it this hot, after Praimfaya?’ Brell rose her head from the water, working her fingers into her braided hair to undo it. The paint was washed from her skin, markings of the Desert Clan abandoned as the water cleaned it.

‘Hotter. Especially in the sands.’ Clarke joined her in the water, leaving most of her clothing on the side.

‘If you don’t mind me asking…’

‘Brell, we’re friends. You can ask.’ Clarke vanished under the water for a moment, kicked off so she could touch the floor with her hands, before pushing back up to the surface.

‘What was it like? Being on the earth for that long?’ For a moment, Clarke regretted letting her step over the boundary of a Warrior/Commander relationship. But then she remembered that anybody would be curious about such a thing, that it was normal to have questions about it.

‘Lonely. Painful. I… I stopped speaking, learned how to rely on the animals around me. For a while, I stopped eating entirely.’ She still felt it, alone. Not quite the same Clarke that her friends wanted her to be, and only Murphy seemed to understand. She looked to her still-injured hand, the one that nobody had noticed yet.

‘I can’t say I understand, but down in the Bunker… I lost someone, in the second week.’ Clarke’s head snapped up, finding Brell floating on the surface of the water, staring up at the sky.

‘Who were they?’ Gentle, she could understand how much losing someone hurt.

‘My lover, Rhydian. He was from my Clan.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss. What… what happened?’ It was a risk, to ask such a thing, but Brell splashed back into the water before looking across at her.

‘Bloodreina needed to get those in control who spoke up. Rhydian was one of them.’ Which was why Brell seemed to avoid Octavia like the plague.

‘You did not seek revenge.’ Not even in the Conclave.

‘I had five years to understand why she did it. You forgave Lexa, for what happened to your Skaikru lover.’ Finn. Clarke forgot that people remembered that, it seemed a lifetime ago. She remembered walking out in front of her people, of begging Lexa to show strength.

The Commander had been right, it had been the decision that would solidify unions. Even if Lexa then went behind her back, to make a deal with the Mountain Men.

‘She did it to keep the peace.’ Clarke could feel the flame tick to life at the thought of the old Commander, but Lexa did not appear. Perhaps she knew that she wasn’t needed at this moment.

‘You miss her.’ Brell stated, studying her expression, and Clarke shrugged.

‘I always will.’

**

‘Clarke!’ The Commander looked to where Brell was pointing, at a bird that was perched in a tree. She moved out of the water, focused on the dark brown feathers, the beady eyes that watched her as she approached. The tree was right above the purple flowers, but that wasn’t the first thing that struck fear into Clarke’s heart.

She knew that bird.

‘Impossible.’ Brell was moving at her word, coming to her side.

‘Commander?’ Back to this relationship, but she didn’t worry about that now. She whistled, held out her arm and was unsurprised when the bird swooped down. Her arm was bare, dangerous considering the talons that dug in as the bird perched.

‘I trained her, back in the beginning. Sent her in search of life.’ Clarke slowly reached to the leg of the bird, to where the tiny note had been attached. It was still there, so she undid it, noting almost immediately that the paper had changed.

‘A message?’ Clarke unfolded the piece of paper, reading the three words written onto it, and then looking to Brell.

‘We have two problems.’

‘The murderer?’

‘That’s the first one.’ Clarke agreed, before taking her hands to the bird’s neck and cracking it before it had a chance to flee. Brell jumped back, looking slightly worried at Clarke’s aggression.

‘The second?’ She dared to ask, Clarke dropping the lifeless bird to the ground.

‘We’re not the only ones who survived _Praimfaya_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHHH... 
> 
> Sorry?


	17. Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Council meetings, Lexa, and a speech to Wonkru

Murphy had been planning on a nice sunbathing session, having completed his chores for the day. Clarke had assigned him as one of her Council members, which meant he had duties that she dictated. Most of the others were given sections of Wonkru to keep an eye on, like Kane with the children, or Bellamy and Echo in charge of the training groups.

His job was more simple than that, to make sure that Isla of the Lake Clan did not get in to any trouble. She usually spent her time with the Pride, if not in training with Clarke or Kane. Occasionally, she’d deviate from her normal routine and sneak out of the Village with Osleya at her side, the only female Cub of Seda.

With Isla under Kane’s careful watch, Murphy kicked up his feet and lay back under the sun. Emori had come to him earlier, abandoning her normal job of keeping watch of the smoke house, to tell him that Clarke had called her family.

Nobody on the Ark had a sibling, beside the Blakes. Still, he figured this was what it felt like, with Clarke. Somebody he would die to protect.

Emori had gone about her day with a bright smile, one that Murphy had to admit was very suiting of her. He pondered over all of this while the sun continued to beam down, managed to just about reach the verge of sleep when he heard hooves.

Clarke and Brell were back, this time on the back of a grey horse, skidding to a halt in the clearing. Murphy eyed the two of them up, wondering when Clarke had managed to train horses to her command as well, noting the lack of a bridle or saddle. The Commander’s arrival had drawn the attention of Wonkru, whether it was the horse she was riding, or the fact that she wasn’t dressed in her normal leathers.

Shorts. He expected it from Octavia, sure. But on Clarke? Then there was the strapped top, both leaving her scarred skin on display. The faint burns from Praimfaya were skipped over in favour of the claw-marks on her left thigh, which he presumed were from her Panthers.

The Commander dismounted, then turned to Brell, who also had abandoned her leathers. They were thrown over the back of the horse, leaving the Second in what could only be considered Skaikru-styled clothing. He’d never seen Brell without her face covered in the traditional markings, wondered when they’d had the time to wash.

He knew Bellamy was already growing jealous of Brell, something that amused him to no end. Especially considering he knew that Clarke wasn’t looking for anybody, not when her ex-girlfriend was stalking her mind through the use of a chip in the back of her neck.

‘Murphy, can you grab the Council? And all of Skaikru who are trusted.’ She was wearing the fingerless gloves, the ones that hid the fact she’d shredded her right hand to pieces with the glass. He rose out of his sunbathing position, giving a lazy smile.

‘Sure, Princess.’

**

The Council room/Church/Clarke’s throne room filled slowly, Murphy taking a seat next to Emori and looking around. Octavia and Bellamy sat together, Echo joining them, and Harper and Monty entered the room. They stuck to the back of the group, along with Abby, whereas Kane moved to the table. In came Efana and the other Conclave members, all apart from Isla.

They waited in silence, none sure why Clarke had summoned them when the sun was setting, and it looked like it would rain soon. Murphy was going to stay inside this time, didn’t want to run the risk of burning. It may have been hot today, but the rain was coming in quickly.

The doors opened, and Clarke came in. Brell was at her side, the two of them speaking in hushed words with their heads close together. Murphy took a moment to realise how thin Clarke had got, he could practically see her ribs through the shirt she was wearing.

‘Commander.’ It was echoed around the room as she took her throne, Brell by her side.

‘Report on the body?’ Clarke asked, looking to her Mom with no emotion on her face.

‘The same poison used before.’ But Clarke already knew that, nodded.

‘Do you know who did it?’ Bellamy asked her, and for a moment, something flashed in her eye. It was gone as quickly as it appeared.

‘Close to it. We’ve got a bigger issue than the murders, though.’ That silenced everyone at the table, Brell speaking up.

‘We’re not alone on this planet.’ Murmurs around the table, shocked looks, but Clarke held a hand up to silence them.

‘Whoever killed Adana and Maxi also is sending information to this… new threat.’

‘Then they have to be found, and killed. Made an example of.’ Rena stated firmly, Kane frowning.

‘Are we really about to make the same mistakes again? These people could be peaceful!’ Skaikru nodded along to Kane, but the Grounders looked less impressed.

‘Typical Skaikru.’ Devian snorted, Clarke frowning.

‘Devian, your grudge was with Finn of Skaikru, not Kane. Watch your tongue.’ The mention of Finn had Raven’s eyes widening, the others that remembered Clarke’s broken heart staring at the Commander in shock. She didn’t even flinch, just sat back in her chair.

‘Yes Heda.’ Devian stated, a small smile on his face as he tipped his head in respect.

‘But Rena is correct. These people have been spying on us, hardly an act of peace.’ Kane sighed, sat forward with his hands clasped together.

‘Clarke, they are at a disadvantage. Remember when we first landed on the earth? You aimed for peace.’ Murphy rolled his eyes, Kane playing that card was a low blow. Still, Clarke nodded briefly.

‘Have there ever been any outsiders into our territory? Have we ever heard of another group of people?’ She asked, question aimed at Indra, who looked thoughtful.

‘There was a party of people, who requested a meeting with the old Commander, but…’ Clarke held her hand up to silence Indra, tilted her head to the side where Murphy presumed Lexa was.

‘Clarke?’ Abby questioned, but whatever the discussion was, it was more important.

‘She’s talking to Lexa.’ Murphy finally provided, heads around the table spinning to him. A couple opened their mouths, some just looked startled, but then Clarke spoke up.

‘Northern border, from old-day Canada. I could have sworn there was something… Murphy, what did Titus say back when he spoke of the old bloodlines?’ He got where her thoughts were going, a mention of part of Trikru coming from the North. He tried to remember, then had an idea.

‘Lexa could ask Bekka for the name of the original members of the Canadian bunker.’ Clarke’s eyes lit up, a bright smile crossing her face.

**

She knew Murphy was smart, but he really did prove himself now. His suggestion was a good one, Clarke looked across to where Lexa was standing.

 _‘I’ll ask. Keep them from arguing.’_ With Lexa gone, she looked back to her people.

‘We need to be prepared for the possibility of war. Once we find the traitor, we’ll need to find out what they’ve told them.’ That started a new discussion, of whether torture was allowed. Clarke allowed them to bicker gently, glancing out of the window to see that the rain would soon be falling. She didn’t have long to find the traitor.

‘How do we narrow it down?’ Bellamy asked, a silence falling, and Clarke decided this was her part.

‘They’ll give themselves up, if…’ Lexa was back, and the Commander turned to her.

 _‘It matches. The Canadian Bunker was built with the second branch of Trikru legacy.’_ That narrowed it down. Clarke was now pretty confident that she could find the murderer, and from Lexa’s encouraging smile, the old Commander also had faith.

‘Thank you, Lexa. Thank Pramheda for me.’ The Warrior smiled, bowed her head before vanishing once more, and Clarke’s chest ached.

‘Well?’ Murphy asked, and Clarke rose up.

‘Summon Wonkru.’

**

Clarke’s worth had always been based on whether or not she could save those around her. She stood as Wonkru gathered around her, briefly looked to the sky and estimated how long it would be till it rained. She did not want her people getting hurt, just because it had taken her this long to find the murderer.

‘Wonkru, I will not keep you long.’ She took a step closer, swallowed down her fear. She could do this.

_Can you? Another nation, another war? That’s what you’re good at, spilling blood._

‘By now, you will have heard that there has been two members of Trikru murdered. A traitor of Wonkru, roaming freely amongst us. But tonight, I bring you the news that this traitor has committed another sin against our people.’ She took a breath, clenched her fingers tightly and looked out across the people.

‘We are not alone on this planet! There is another nation, who will soon be vying for the Shallow Valley!’ Fear, it spread quickly, whispers and growing anxiousness about the oncoming war. This was where people began to doubt her, she could see it.

She was not a Grounder. They had trusted her to see them through peace, but they did not think she had the guts to lead them into war.

‘Our murderer has been spying, communicating with the other nation!’ Weapons reached for, anguished cries of annoyance that built.

_‘Let them be angry. Use it, twist it into confidence.’_

‘Trikru will have their revenge! Wonkru will have their revenge, I give you my word!’ Clarke’s words caused a cheer, a demand for blood.

‘How will we find them?’ Someone shouted, and Clarke let her lips draw back into a grin.

‘We already have. I know who committed these crimes, and once we have our information, she will be handed across to Penn for Trikru’s punishment.’ It was a risk, a fifty-fifty gamble on whether it was a woman or a man. Clarke had seen the bodies, had seen the puncture marks where it had been administered. It was a woman’s hand, she was almost sure.

If she was wrong, she was about to lose Wonkru.

‘Seda, fetch our murderer.’ She gave the hand signals, the Panther springing from her position and into the crowd.

The fact was, that this Grounder would not be afraid of Clarke. So, she had to play on the fear that came with the Panthers.

For a moment, she didn’t think it would work. But as Seda approached the back, a woman split from the crowd and made a run for the forest. Shouts, several people readying spears to throw after her, but Clarke knew she’d run.

Osleya stepped out, Kappa and Kepplei boxing her in. Seda stopped the woman from running back, the Murderer turning in circles and raising a weapon ready to try and defend herself.

Clarke moved through the crowd, not needing to command them to part as she moved through.

 _‘Palaya kom Trikru.’_ Lexa stated from the Church steps. Clarke grinned, moving towards the terrified Warrior.

‘Palaya kom Trikru, you’re found guilty of murder and conspiracy against Wonkru.’

She’d done it.

_Are you feeling worthy yet, Wanheda?_


	18. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's got a lot to prove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! To all those asking about Bellarke, there will be more in the upcoming chapters! It's going to be a while till we get big steps forward, this is mostly for Clarke and her recovery!

‘Clarke, someone else can do it.’ Bellamy tried, but Indra shook her head.

‘If the Commander doesn’t do this, then she’ll be seen as weak.’ He hated it. He could see the fear in her eyes, the terror as they all turned to the woman tied down in the side-room of the Church. They needed answers, and it had already been agreed that torture was necessary.

And then there was the fact that she was seeing her dead girlfriend. The flame inside her head, the thing that none of them were sure was a good thing.

‘This isn’t fair.’ Raven snapped, moving towards Clarke, but Brell stepped in the way. For a moment, Bellamy thought she was going to disagree, but then her face softened.

‘Clarke, I could do it, if you want.’ A brief flare of jealousy stabbed through him, the way Brell’s tone was gentle, soothing. Clarke looked between the group, pausing on her Mom, then staring at Kane.

‘If we want any chance of peace, we need those answers.’ Even Kane could agree with that, the man slowly nodding at Clarke. She fell silent once more, gaze finally coming to rest on him. There, underneath the fear and the layers she had tried to pile on, was the Clarke he knew. The one that needed her friends.

‘Leave us.’ She commanded, turning her back on him. Brell bowed her head, Indra moving towards the main room of the Church, considering it had just started to rain. Bellamy followed, although he halted in the doorway, found that Murphy hadn't left Clarke’s side.

‘Commander?’ Brell asked, looking right at Murphy. Clarke startled, like she hadn't realised Murphy was there.

The two exchanged a look, Murphy’s lips twitching briefly, but he gave nothing away.

‘Murphy can stay.’ Clarke finally said, and that was it.

The doors shut, and Bellamy turned to the others.

‘We need a plan.’ Nods exchanged, Octavia speaking up.

‘How do we find peace with a group we know nothing of?’

‘More importantly, what if Clarke can’t get her to talk?’ Echo stated, not really making it a question.

‘Palaya’s a Grounder, torture won’t be easy.’ Brell agreed, taking a half-step away from Octavia. Bellamy noticed, but they had bigger issues than that.

‘I’ll go in after.’ Brell offered, but even she looked slightly queasy at the thought.

A scream rang out from the other room, and any hope Bellamy had felt plummeted to the floor.

‘We have to save Clarke.’ Raven stated, leaving no room for argument.

**

Clarke crouched down, moving the knife further. Another cut, deep enough to bleed, but not enough to be dangerous. She worked methodically, a plan in mind, trying to stop the part of her that was screaming in anguish. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to watch a person struggle under her hands because she was hurting them.

_You’re getting good at this, Wanheda._

If she didn’t do this, Wonkru would not have the strength needed to face this new nation. Those three words, the ones on the piece of paper, they echoed over and over as she made another slice in the woman’s skin.

**_Commander is Weak._ **

Was that what Wonkru thought? If that message had reached the enemy, they would have no hope. A nation was based on the strength of those leading it, and Clarke could not afford to let her heart rule her decisions.

‘I have been tortured by worse than _you_ , child.’ The woman snarled, spitting in her face. Clarke merely continued, pressed the knife into her leg and split the fabric.

‘Knives, arrows, poison. Whatever you have, I’ve had worse.’ Mouthy, it would be useful later.

Clarke had suffered five years in Hell, and nobody was going to destroy Wonkru because she was not strong enough. She didn’t need Lexa to tell her now was the time she needed to be strong, sliced deeper into the skin.

All her friends would hate her. Would think her a monster, for what she was about to do.

But she had to save Wonkru. Had to know what the traitor had told the other nation.

‘I’m going to give you one chance, Palaya, to tell me what I need to know.’ Clarke kept her tone steady, listened to the woman laugh in amusement.

‘You don’t intimidate me.’

Wonkru would be safe, because Clarke had kept herself breathing just to make sure of it.

_You’ll be the bad guy again, Wanheda._

Good. If it meant her friends were safe, then she would do it. Again and again, she’d keep them safe. It was her job.

‘You think I’m using the knife to torture you? This is just to… enhance the experience.’ Clarke stated, dragging it towards the woman’s knee. Palaya grunted in pain, another breathy sound as it got bad. Sounds meant nothing, it was the words she was waiting for.

‘What could you possibly do to me?’ Palaya laughed, and Clarke figured a couple more cuts would probably be enough. She didn’t want the woman woozy, needed her to be in her right mind for the next part of this.

‘You’ll be handed to Penn in the morning, Trikru can have you.’ Clarke remarked, staring at the blood that stained her hands.

‘You’re _weak_ , Clarke. A child, trying to sit at the big table. But when they come, Wonkru will see what you are. They’ll rebel.’ The Commander rose up, cutting the ropes and retying so her hands were bound behind in front of her back. Placing her knife back, Clarke punched her just for good measure, gripped the woman’s hair as she dropped to her knees.

‘Wonkru will follow me. Of that, I have no doubt.’ Act strong, and all will be fine. Clarke dragged the woman towards the doors, Murphy following.

They were right on the other side, startled when Clarke opened the door. She had to look a mess, smearing blood behind them as she dragged the woman with her.

Refusing to look at any of them, she moved to the Church’s doors.

‘Clarke! It’s raining!’ The Commander threw the door open, looked back over her shoulder to Brell, who had spoken.

‘That’s the idea.’

**

Palaya was thrown down the steps, landed in the mud and gurgled up a scream, desperately scrabbling in the wet mud as Clarke followed her retreating form.

‘It BURNS. Please, oh gods _please_ , it burns!’ Clarke followed the woman as she dragged herself backward, the rain lashing down around them. Another step, before she brought her foot to the woman’s ankle.

Something cracked.

Her Pride were back, circling the clearing as Clarke reached for the damp hair, pulled her up to her knees.

‘Names. Numbers. Location.’ When Palaya did not answer, Clarke brought her knife down again, held the fresh cut to the rain. The woman fought, nails scratching down into Clarke’s skin, but she refused to give in.

‘Northern… northern border. Two miles out.’ She gasped, and Clarke shoved her down into the rain. Another scream, Clarke holding her still as she waited.

‘Not… please, _mercy_!’

‘Numbers.’ She growled, and the girl sobbed.

‘Not many. Two hundred, maybe less!’ Not bad, Clarke could deal with that. She flipped the woman over, placed the knife to her spine and waited.

‘What did you tell them.’ She pressed the knife in, watched the woman squirm and panic as the rain overpowered her nerves.

‘N-nothing, j-just that we had a c-c-commander. Space f-for all.’ Deeper, blood staining her hands.

‘The truth.’

‘It is! Oh God, it is! Please, _Wanheda_ , please!’ Clarke rose up, placed the knife back.

She grabbed the girl’s bound hands, moved her to the corner pole of one of the buildings. Tied her to it, watched as Palaya’s eyes widened.

‘No, no you can’t leave me here!’ Clarke ignored her, turned her back and began to walk back towards the Church. To where the others were staring, horrified. Or she imagined that was how they looked, she was too afraid to stare.

_You’ve always been a monster, Wanheda. Now you’re showing them._

‘Please! It’s burning me!’ She halted, let her eyes shut.

‘Wanheda! Heda! Mercy, it’s burning me, I’m being burnt alive!’ A deep breath, letting the panic slip away. She rolled her shoulders back, didn’t look to the woman.

‘You deserve to burn.’

**

Murphy watched as Clarke stared into the shattered mirror. She’d ordered everyone out, threatened Brell with a knife when she tried to stay. Murphy got no such threat, stood in the room and stared at the blood-soaked Commander. She’d done it, got the information needed, but it had a high cost.

Not the woman, Palaya.

No, the cost was the sanity of the Commander that was slumped over the sink, stripping off her gloves and sinking down to her knees.

‘Clarke…’ He tried, and her eyes looked up at him. Broken.

‘It looked like Hell. Fire, stretching as high as the tower in Polis. I was running, but it was so much faster, and… oh God, Murphy it hurt so much.’ He refused to let his eyes water. Blinked once, then slowly sunk down to the floor by her side.

‘I won’t leave you to burn, Clarke.’ Her head dropped to her knees, a sob shattering her form.

‘I should have put a bullet through my brain.’ They’d never said it aloud. Either of them, but now…

‘You’re going to save Wonkru.’ He stated firmly, and the Commander shuddered.

‘And if I can’t?’

‘You can.’ Her expression shifted, a brief smile flashing across her face.

‘Rooting for a promotion, huh?’ The joke made him smile, and Clarke looked to her bloody hands.

‘I’m going to send a team to the north, to offer three of their representatives the chance to talk to us. To make peace.’ Murphy watched her pain bleed out, a frown taking its place.

‘A good idea. But you should probably shower first.’ He suggested, wrinkling his nose. She laughed, before letting her legs fall, kicking them out. A vulnerable look, like the Clarke before Mount Weather, before stabbing Finn.

‘I’d do anything to keep you all safe.’

‘It’s not just your burden, Clarke.’

**

She curled up in the mound of blankets, let her Pride snuggle up around her. Seda stayed slightly to the side of the group, while Osleya nudged her way up to Clarke’s front. Kappa opted for lying across her legs, while Kepplei pressed up to her back. A pile of fur and warmth, of comfort that she longed for but didn’t know how to ask for from humans.

‘Clarke?’ She blinked, peered across the dark Church to find Bellamy. He stepped forward, dressed down in sleepwear, and she wondered if he’d come to hate her.

‘Bellamy. I…’

‘Shh, it’s okay. I’m not angry, oh Clarke, you’re not to blame. You saved us. Again.’ He came across, Osleya eyeing him up, but letting him take a seat in the nest.

‘But I…’

‘Did what you had to.’ Bellamy’s tone left no room for argument, his arms hesitantly stretching out in an offering.

She dived in to them, Osleya crawling out of the way so that Clarke could sob into his shoulder. Bellamy just held her tight, slowly let her settle on his lap.

‘You really sleep in a pile?’ He teasingly asked after she had finished soaking his shirt, and Clarke laughed.

‘It’s comfy. You should try it.’ Only when the words were out did she realised how it had sounded, waited for Bellamy’s reaction.

He shuffled down, eyeing up Osleya as the Cub curled into his side. Clarke stayed where she was, resting on him, although she did move slightly off so she didn’t squash him.

‘You’ve always got me, Clarke.’

_Everything you touch dies, Wanheda._


	19. The Other Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's got another Nation to try and broker peace with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Friendly reminder that all ships/views are welcome, as long as we respect other people's opinions! 
> 
> Thank you all and have a lovely day! <3

Morning found Clarke dressed before Bellamy could wake, heading out to where Wonkru were beginning to arrive in the clearing. Palaya was still tied to the stake that Clarke had left her at, eyes red-rimmed and body shuddering slightly. She’d survived the rain, as Clarke knew she would, but it must have been painful.

Penn was in front of her, with those from Trikru that knew either Maxi or Adana. It was revenge, justice for their deaths, and the Commander watched as he gave the speech about blood having blood. A sip from the drink she had made herself, fingers curling around the cup and wincing at the pain in her injured hand. She hadn't bothered to wear her gloves today, so the bruised and scraped knuckles could clearly be seen.

She figured that, after last night, nobody would be stupid enough to doubt her commitment to Wonkru. Clarke let Trikru have their blood, to slice and hit and curse at the woman that used to be one of them. She lit the fire at the Skaikru camp, began to cook some fish for breakfast for the group. A collection of cups, that she filled with her flower-brew. It was nice and warm, steamed in the early morning coolness.

‘Good morning, Clarke.’ Echo came across, and Clarke offered out a cup. The assassin seemed surprised, but accepted the drink from her. She took a long sip, eyes widening.

‘What is it?’

‘A home recipe.’ Clarke joked, then plated up some food for the woman. She settled by the fire, thanked Clarke when she handed the plate across.

The group slowly woke, Kane appearing next, with Monty and Harper coming across. Raven, who nudged Clarke’s shoulder when she reached her. Emori and Murphy, then Bellamy, and Abby. Octavia and Indra walked across, talking away about the threat of the new nation, but Clarke was relaxed.

Miller and Jackson were on duty, one as a medic, the other on training, so she didn’t expect to see them yet.

‘Trikru finds Palaya to be a traitor to her Clan, and to Wonkru. As granted by the Commander, we find you guilty, and sentenced to execution.’ Clarke looked across, to where Trikru had gained quite a crowd.

Kane was staring at her, like he wanted her to stop the issue. Clarke ignored his stare, watched as Penn pulled a small knife from his belt. Palaya hadn't moved much, the rain would have taken most of the fight out of her.

 _‘You can’t afford to lose their trust, Clarke. Not when you have a new threat.’_ She jumped slightly at Lexa’s arrival, turned to see the Old Commander leaning against one of the houses. Clarke knew what she said was true, turned back to where Penn had approached, before he halted.

His head turned to her, before he offered out the knife.

Silence amongst Wonkru, and Clarke knew what the offering meant. It was an honour, to be able to avenge the dead. Rejecting the knife would be a mistake, Clarke didn’t need Lexa to tell her that. She placed down her cup, moving across to Penn, reaching for the knife.

It was like what happened to Finn. She stepped closer, studied the Warrior as they stood close.

‘For your crimes against Wonkru.’ She whispered, moving her hand towards the girl’s chest, to save the agony of a slow death.

‘I was wrong about you, Heda.’ Palaya muttered back, lips cracked from the rain and eyes slightly glazed with tears. Clarke smiled, even if it broke her to do so, pushed the knife with precision. She did not look away, refused to break the eye contact as the woman took a couple of laboured breaths, before her head lolled.

Clarke stepped back, knife in hand, blood dripping from the blade. Trikru were cheering, proud that their traitor had been killed, but Clarke had no such joy.

 _‘Focus, Clarke.’_ Lexa was by her side, giving the energy that she needed to hand the blade across.

Then she smiled. Drew her lips back, forced the expression onto her face, and turned to Penn.

‘She shall be burned along with Adana, to pay for her sins.’ The Clan Leader liked the idea, bowed his head to her, and Clarke moved away from Trikru.

She made it to the water basin, poured some to wash her hands, ignoring the way the water stained red under her touch.

‘Commander, what are we doing about the other Nation?’ That was Brell, who was walking across with a plate of food.

Clarke dried her hands carefully, turned to her Second and considered the question.

‘We’re sending a welcome-party.’

**

It was decided that Brell would go, with Bellamy, Echo, Octavia, Kane and Devian. Clarke eyed up the choices, before nodding her head. They had been tasked with bringing three people back to Shallow Valley, to discuss the terms that the new Nation had with coming to this land. They went armed, with weapons that Clarke avoided like the plague, guns that she could no longer handle without a slight ache in her stomach.

They were taking the jeep, and it would take them most of the day to go, and return. At any sign of hostility, they were to return. They were taking a radio with them, so that Raven, Monty and Harper could remain in contact.

Clarke watched them go, then turned to Efana, who she had specifically asked to stay behind. The most important thing about negotiating peace, was to make sure that they had the advantage.

‘Murphy, Emori, Indra. I want Wonkru aware of the visitors we might be having. Send out two Hunting parties to collect a kill for the evening. Weapons on hand at all times.’ The three of them nodded, even Murphy, before they were off. It left Efana standing by her side, looking at her with a curious expression.

‘What do you need me to do?’ Clarke looked from her throne, to her Pride, and then finally to Efana.

‘It’s time to make me look like a Commander.’

**

Red. She admired the new colour in her hair, missing the blue before she even had to look at her reflection. It streaked through her hair, that was then braided at the beginning before hanging loose around her body. Dark clothing, leathers that were thick, a breastplate to protect in case of attack. Efana strapped the bindings to her arms and thighs, more protection in case these people tried to attack. Boots that were laced up, a weapons belt that was equipped with a sword and a dagger.

Efana was gentle, painted her face with care. The dark markings around her eyes, the forehead piece that belonged to Lexa pressed into her skin. When the Warrior stepped back, admiring her work, she looked proud.

‘One more thing.’ Gloves, fingerless, to hide the scabs that were beginning to form across her knuckles. Clarke nodded, turned to look at her reflection.

She looked like a Grounder. More than she ever had before, and it startled her for a moment.

‘We should walk amongst the people, Heda. To assure them of your protection.’ Clarke nodded, reached for another dagger that she tucked into the side of her boot. She then walked towards her room, to the nest that she usually stayed in with her pride. To the floorboard beneath it, lifting it up and taking the gun she had hidden.

‘Just in case.’ She murmured, tucking it under the leathers into the back of her shirt.

Her people looked impressed. As she’d advised, they each carried a weapon. They bowed to her, murmurs of Heda and Wanheda following her wherever she went. Respect in their eyes, an understanding that she would protect them no matter what happened next. Efana walked by her side, a hand constantly on her weapon, acting as the Guard that she didn’t really need.

By coincidence, Clarke found her feet guiding her to the medical bay. There weren’t many in there, just a couple of regulars and children that had gotten into scraps. Jackson spotted her first, eyes widening before he called for Abby.

Her Mom looked stunned. Then a smile crossed her face, almost like she was proud, and Clarke swallowed.

_You really think she loves you?_

‘Prepare for the worst case scenario.’ She instructed, her Mom’s smile falling from her face, and Clarke turned away from them.

As expected, Murphy was with Isla. The girl came running across with no hesitation, showing Clarke the weapon she was currently training with. A crossbow, a little big for her, but she seemed to be getting the hang of it.

‘Wanheda.’ Murphy remarked, eyeing up her hair, before he smiled slightly. Solidarity, an understanding that he would be by her side.

‘Keep Isla and Emori safe. If something goes wrong… go to Abby.’ She didn’t need to ask for him to protect her Mom, he’d do that without needing the hint. Murphy gave a nod, before Efana looked to the sky.

‘Commander, they should be back soon. You’ll be needed in the throne room.’ Clarke followed her guidance, getting ready for the moment of decision.

Peace, or war?

**

Bellamy looked to Octavia, then to Echo. The jeep hurtled onwards, back towards the safety of the Valley, and he took a moment to stare at the three men. They each had weapons, he could see them all very clearly, but it was obvious that they were nothing like the Grounders. For one, they were wearing neatly maintained clothing, spoke in English rather than in any deviation of the language.

They were also terrified of the Grounders. The only reason they’d managed to get them in the jeep was Kane’s promise that their Commander would be willing to listen to their demands about a peaceful meeting.

Outnumbered, but they had weaponry that was more advanced. Bellamy didn’t speak to them, instead studied the three of them. Young, all of them, nothing like the men that had made the decision on which three to send. They clearly didn’t have one leader, and from what he’d pieced together, they were ruled by a Council.

‘Your Commander… killed our informant?’ The silence was broken by the youngest, the other two scowling at him.

‘Your spy, yes.’ Brell snapped, glaring. That had them falling silent.

Bellamy hoped Clarke was ready. They needed a show of strength, to prove that they were a high-functioning group, not just the barbarians that they thought. The jeep pulled into the Shallow Valley, into the Village, and Bellamy climbed out first. Raven, Monty and Harper appeared, all armed, and he gave them a nod.

Devian climbed out, gestured for them to follow.

‘The Commander’s ready to see them.’ Efana stated, turning towards the Church. The three men straightened, looked around the Village as they led them towards the room.

Even Bellamy, for the briefest of moments, was fearful of the woman seated on the throne. Cold eyes skipped over him without any pause, focusing on the three in front.

‘You must be the Nation with spies.’

**

Clarke watched the three of them, studied each one curiously as they moved closer.

‘May I introduce ourselves…’

‘No.’ She stated calmly, cutting off the one that would be trigger-happy, if the way his fingers kept twitching around the gun was any indication.

‘Which one of you is the Leader of your people?’ She questioned, already knowing the answer. These three were not Leaders.

‘We don’t have a Leader, we’re ruled by a Council.’ Said the one in the middle, the oldest. Probably her age, a face that remained calm.

‘One of you must rise to the occasion, then.’ She mocked, sitting back in her throne and watching as they looked between themselves.

‘Choose, or I’ll kill two of you and make the decision for myself.’ Clarke provided, watched Trigger-Happy swallow, before puffing his chest out like he was about to volunteer.

‘I’m our Leader.’ The middle one stated, kept his gaze on her. Brave, but also not making any move for his weapon.

‘Everybody out.’ She ordered, her people obeying without question. Kane gave her an encouraging smile, which she ignored as the doors shut, leaving just her and the new Leader.

‘Congratulations on your promotion.’ Her tone was light, and she was surprised when he smiled at her words.

‘Joshua. Of the Canadance Bunker.’ It had a name. Clarke gestured for him to take a seat, which he did, even if he paused.

‘Clarke, Commander of Wonkru and the Shallow Valley.’ The man dared for another smile, Clarke rising from her throne and moving across to where she’d brought a jug of her flower-tonic. She poured two cups, turning back to Joshua.

‘Canadance Bunker?’ She questioned, offering the cup out. This time, the Leader had got his reactions in check, not hesitating to take it from her.

‘Canada and France originally made a Bunker.’ She returned to her seat, settling back in it.

‘And your people came out after Praimfaya.’ The word was unfamiliar to him, she watched him test it on his tongue before nodding.

‘Our links to satellites told us that this Valley existed. We heard a radio frequency as we approached, which told us we weren’t alone. That we had a friend.’

‘A spy.’ She corrected, but gestured for him to continue.

‘Who told us that Wonkru was in the Valley, but there was enough room for all. And that there was a Commander.’ She watched him take a drink, the surprise on his face when it tasted alright. He swallowed it down hungrily, proving that he was far too trusting. Like they had been, when they first came to earth.

‘And so you come for peace.’ She remarked, the man straightening his spine.

‘You know we don’t have the numbers to fight. Peace is logical.’

 _‘He sounds like you.’_ Lexa remarked, prowling around the boy with amusement written across her face.

‘Peace works if you obey our rules. This is our Valley, both before and after Praimfaya. If I allow you sanctuary, you obey our customs. You obey me.’ There was nothing but curiosity on his face, he had been delegated this role because he was smart. A quick mind, and not easy to anger.

‘How would that work?’

‘Your people would be split. Half would join an already existing Clan, under the leadership of one of their people. The other half would make a new Clan, and you would have a Leader. One that sat on my Council. You’d learn our ways, but ultimately, my decision is final.’ He studied her curiously, before his gaze was drawn behind her.

Seda approached, came to Clarke’s side. The Commander stroked the Panther, watched Joshua’s gaze focus on her.

‘We have two in captivity. Panthers. We collected animals before the Fire.’ Another thing she’d need to think about, but Seda’s Cubs might have the potential to find a mate.

‘I would have to discuss this with… my people.’ Already thinking like a Leader, she was impressed. Not that she’d show it.

‘In three days time, I’ll arrive at your camp. If you agree to live under my Command, then I expect your people to be split in half by that point, ready to move into my Valley.’

_Your Valley, Wanheda?_

‘If we can’t agree?’

‘The Valley belongs to Wonkru. If you decide that you do not want to live under my rule, then you are more than willing to find somewhere else.’ His lips quirked up at the sides, and Clarke risked a smile back.

‘Why accept us at all? You have the power to crush us.’ As did Lexa, all those years ago when Clarke begged her for peace. For a coalition.

‘You asked for peace, and I am not interested in bloodshed for fun. If we can live in… harmony, so be it.’

‘I’ll talk to them. But I can’t promise they’ll all listen.’ Just as her people had not.

‘Those who don’t will fall to leadership.’ She remarked, thinking to the boy outside. He reminded her of Finn, and not in a good way.

‘Thank you for the audience, Clarke.’ She rose up, before making a leap of faith.

‘Come, I’ll show you what Wonkru is like.’

**

Joshua had probably been expecting savages. So, when he reached the nursery and school, his eyes widened. The shock followed them as she showed him around the Village, none of the places where their weapons or medical supplies were stored, just places where she could trust him not to react badly.

‘Each Clan lives in one of these buildings?’

‘In a selection, yes. Trikru is the largest clan, and occupies most of the space to the North of the Church.’ She guided him towards the Lake Clan, halting when Isla came out of the door.

‘Clarke!’ The girl then halted, staring to the man at Clarke’s side. Most of Wonkru had avoided them, had watched the newcomer warily.

‘Isla, this is Joshua of the Outside Nation. Joshua, meet Isla of the Lake Clan. She would be the Leader of half of your people.’ The girl straightened her back, but she did not reach for her weapon like Clarke feared. Joshua looked from Clarke, to Isla, then back again.

Clearly, he was unsure of her age. He slowly inclined his head.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Isla.’

‘I’m training to be Clarke’s second.’ The girl stated, and Clarke smiled fondly. Isla was gone in an instant, moving towards the school while Joshua smiled.

‘She’s quite the character.’

‘That she is.’ Clarke agreed, guiding him back towards the two people waiting for him.

‘Is she… yours?’

‘No. A Commander is chosen by Conclave, not by family.’ He nodded, not asking any more questions. He reached the group, where Bellamy was standing Guard of the other two, and Kane was looking hopeful.

‘Thank you for your hospitality, Clarke.’ He stated, offering out his hand in a custom that had her thinking to Skaikru. It had been a while since she’d seen it done, but she still accepted his hand.

‘Not a Wonkru thing?’ He guessed, looking a little embarrassed, and Clarke smiled.

‘I’ll see you in three days, Joshua.’ He took a step back, turning to the jeep and gesturing for the other two to get in. They did, but he paused.

‘I really do hope our people can live in peace, Commander.’ Clarke didn’t reply, just inclined her head before turning back to the Church.

She didn’t need to see them off, she had three days to pray that they opted for peace.


	20. Progress?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke decides a trip is in order, only for Kane to slip up on something at the end

Clarke watched as the jeep pulled in, as the engine was cut and Bellamy climbed out from behind the wheel. It was early morning, the village was silent, Clarke hadn't seen another soul for hours.

‘You stayed up?’ He came across, looking relaxed. Evidently, there hadn't been any issues with taking the three back. Bellamy suited the ground, he looked settled.

‘Wanted to make sure you got back alright.’ Clarke honestly answered, then smiled when Bellamy came to her side. How long had she spent on the earth without them? Just wanting to be able to sit by their side, to have someone other than her Panthers to talk to.

‘Worried about me, Princess?’ He joked, while she rose up as they walked back towards the Church. She snorted, nudging his shoulder playfully.

‘Worried about my peace treaty more like.’ She teased him as they moved into the Church, before halting. Last night, he had stayed with her, but she presumed he would want to move back to his own room now.

‘Mind if I stay with you for the evening?’ He asked, as if he’d read her thoughts. Clarke shrugged, led the way to the room where her nest was. Only Osleya and Kappa were in at the moment, lazily flicking their eyes to Bellamy before accepting him into the room.

‘You did well today. Plus you looked badass.’ Bellamy’s words had her blushing slightly, but she played it off by rolling her eyes. Off came the boots and her jacket, but she left the rest on. No need to make this… awkward.

‘That was the idea.’ She remarked, climbing into the mountain of blankets and then averting her eyes when Bellamy’s shirt came off.

‘Still a prude?’ He said with a laugh, following her down into the blankets. She settled back, a distance between them as she looked up at the ceiling.

She’d done it. Started negotiating for peace, and nobody was hurt. Even those closest to her.

‘Why did you move out of the Village?’ The question broke the silence, and Clarke looked across to Bellamy. He had his arm behind his head, propped up as his other stroked between Osleya’s ears.

‘I wanted to make it easier to leave, when you all came back.’ She answered honestly. Bellamy didn’t startle, kept his movements gentle as Osleya preened under the attention.

‘You were going to leave us?’ The unspoken words, that she was going to leave him, and her chest tightened.

‘I didn’t want to. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you hurt. All of you.’ She quickly added the last bit on, fearful that he would think her selfishly thinking of just him. Bellamy’s head turned to her, eyes full of an emotion she couldn’t place.

‘I’m glad you stayed, Clarke.’

**

She had packed the bags, collected the food and then moved around Wonkru to wake up her Skaikru friends. Bellamy laughed at her enthusiasm, let himself be dragged out to the firepit while she went to find Harper and Monty. They were both still asleep, but she had no qualms with going to wake them. Then Raven, who threw a pillow at her head before finally being convinced to wake. Octavia was already up, and more than enthusiastic with Clarke’s idea.

Echo tried to protest, saying she wasn’t one of Skaikru, but Clarke ignored her. Emori and Murphy were already out of their room by the time Clarke reached them. Jackson and Miller were both on duty, so it left just them to go out.

‘Where exactly are you taking us?’ Bellamy asked, amused as Clarke grabbed her Pack and told Brell to keep an eye on Wonkru while she was gone.

‘For a day out. Fun, you know, something we all used to have?’ She joked, leading the way into the forest. Raven shrugged, quickly hoisted her bag up and followed.

‘I’m down for some fun.’ Octavia stated, hitting her brother’s arm before jogging to catch up with Clarke.

The walk took a couple of hours, but nobody complained. Octavia kept begging Bellamy for a piggyback, until he eventually accepted, and Clarke laughed as they went racing off. This was more like it, she felt her age again, rather than a middle-aged woman wasting away.

She was young. Five years had taken her into her twenties, she was now rapidly approaching twenty-five, but she felt her age for once. The weight of the world gone, Clarke led them up to the top of the waterfall, the lake down below.

‘Woah.’ Raven murmured, Octavia peering down to the waters.

‘I can’t wait to swim.’ She muttered, and Clarke laughed. She gestured to the path that led down, the one she’d trekked so many times it was followable now.

‘There’s the less exciting route down.’ Clarke stated, the group looking confused. Octavia got it first, grinned.

‘Really?’ She nodded, the girl laughing as she started to unbutton her shirt.

‘You can’t be serious.’ Bellamy looked terrified, and Clarke snorted with laughter.

‘Then walk down. We’ll see you at the bottom.’ Octavia kicked off her boots, handing them to Monty who just looked confused.

‘Anyone else?’ Clarke inquired, knowing already that Bellamy would try and be the adult in this situation.

‘I’ll do it.’ Emori spoke up. Clarke grinned, shucking off her own jacket and handing it to Bellamy.

Octavia stripped down to just her underwear, whereas Clarke left on her shorts. Emori settled for her undershirt and shorts, padding across to where Clarke was looking down.

‘It’s a long way.’ She murmured, looking slightly pale, and even Octavia looked worried now. Clarke had done this so many times, but she understood that it might be terrifying.

‘Trust me?’ She asked, holding her hand out to Emori. She paused, before accepting Clarke’s hand, and the Commander turned to grip Octavia’s hand.

‘On three.’

‘One.’ Clarke stated, the other two glancing to her, then back to the ledge.

‘Two.’

‘Three.’ She ran, Octavia and Emori on either side, and kicked off from the side.

**

By the time the others got to the bottom, Octavia had already taken to standing under the waterfall. Emori was floating on the surface, while Clarke was searching for more pretty stones on the lakebed.

‘Your screams woke the entire Valley.’ Murphy teased Octavia, who splashed him.

The others quickly joined the trio in the water, even Echo, and Clarke settled on a rock to look around.

Peace. This was what she had survived for, to feel alive again. Bellamy was attacking Murphy, the two scrambling in the water and trying not to get dunked, while Emori cheered Bellamy on from the side-line.

‘We should play chicken!’ Octavia called, to which Raven quickly teamed up with her. Emori and Murphy made an obvious team, as did Monty and Harper. Echo quickly stated that she was fine watching the game, that she would ensure there was no foul play.

‘Guess that leaves you with me, Princess.’ Bellamy stated, swimming across to where she was seated. Clarke hesitated, but slid from the rock anyway.

‘Better not get me dunked.’ She grumbled, before Bellamy disappeared under the water a moment later. She squeaked when she was lifted out of the water, settled on his shoulders as he rose up, resisting the urge to bury her hands into his hair.

Emori was already getting Murphy to charge at Raven, who was seated on Octavia’s shoulders. As soon as Clarke was seated, Harper was coming for them, and Clarke got ready for the scrabbling fight.

Emori went down when Raven got a good hold on her, splashing under the water while Murphy garbled out his defeat. Clarke managed to knock Harper from her Monty-Tower, the two falling.

‘Ready, Clarke?’ Raven clicked her fingers as she grinned, Octavia getting ready to face her brother.

‘Get ready to sink, big brother.’ Octavia snarked, Bellamy’s hands tightening on Clarke’s thighs.

‘You’re going down.’ He replied, and Clarke got ready for the charge. They went flying towards the duo, Raven’s hands coming for her as Clarke blocked them. Beneath her, Bellamy was trying to kick Octavia’s legs out, the younger attempting the same.

Clarke managed to knock Raven’s shoulder, the girl moving to one side and unbalancing Octavia. Bellamy saw the advantage, kicked out her leg and the two went under.

‘Victory!’ Bellamy’s shout was accompanied by Clarke’s wiggling, arms waving as the Raven and Octavia emerged.

‘All against one?’ Octavia suggested, and Clarke squealed when they all charged. Bellamy swore, tried to lunge away but hands had grabbed him first, and Clarke was off.

She went under, cold water rushing over her head. Her feet hit the bottom, and she stood, glaring at them all.

‘Sore losers.’ She teased, watching as Bellamy slicked his hair back.

**

Clarke lay out on the sandy bank of the lake, dozing in the sun as she watched the others mess around. It was strange, how happy she felt in this simple moment, watching as Emori came across to sit by her side.

‘I’ve never had a group of friends like this.’ She commented, and Clarke looked across. She understood, the old rules that the Coalition had would have prevented Emori from being a part of them.

‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve never seen Murphy so happy.’ Emori’s cheeks darkened, but Clarke just smiled warmly. It was true, Emori made Murphy a better man. Not that he needed her by any means, Clarke had faith that he’d always come down on the right side if pushed.

‘He cares for you. We all do.’ Emori added, and it was Clarke’s turn to look away. She knew they had five years in space to settle, to get used to each other, but Clarke hadn't. She still woke up in the mornings and panicked when she could hear other people, her body still flinched if she hadn't been expecting someone’s touch.

‘I’m not sure I always deserve it.’ Clarke murmured, watching as Bellamy scooped Octavia up before dumping her into the water. The laughter from the others echoed across the clearing, and like he felt her gaze, Bellamy glanced across.

That was what she had missed, the fact that he never failed to make her smile. The way he bonded them all together, one big band of people that should be traumatised from the efforts it took to get them here.

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Clarke. You’re a great leader, and an even better friend.’ Emori simply stated, then moved back in Murphy’s direction.

**

She watched as Kane finished his lesson on the value of oxygen, the children wandering off back in the directions of their Clans. It was heart-warming, to see each of them raise their heads and smile, to chatter freely and not have to worry about anything around them. It was what she wanted for Wonkru, a peace that would settle the Shallow Valley and keep them all secure.

If she could build a sanctuary, then all that she had done would have been worth it. The blood, the war, the losses that she had faced.

Most of the children bowed their heads as they walked past, some looking at her in awe, but she smiled to all of them.

‘Clarke.’ Kane greeted, slightly surprised if she had to guess.

‘Sorry for intruding, I just…’

‘It’s no trouble! What can I do for you?’ He settled by her side, and Clarke hesitantly looked across. This man had started as a threat, then became a reluctant ally, before finally being a friend.

‘I wanted to thank you for helping with the peace talks. I know I came across stubborn…’ Clarke halted when a hand closed over one of hers, Kane’s smile growing.

‘You’re a good Leader, Clarke. You’re what Wonkru needs, and we’re the ones who have to give you both sides of the problem.’ She hadn't been explaining praise. It stunned her, had her tensing up, but Kane was quicker.

‘It can’t have been easy, being on this planet alone with nothing more than a radio.’

‘It wasn’t, there was the fire and then… wait, radio?’ Clarke hadn't told them about the radio. Clarke hadn't dared to bring it up, so the moment Kane mentioned it… The man halted, eyes widening as he realised his mistake, and Clarke had to come to the conclusion that someone had been able to hear her.

‘I… forgive me, Bellamy was going to tell you…’ Bellamy.

Clarke ignored Kane’s shouts for her to slow down, to listen to reason, but Clarke needed to get away.

She needed space.

‘-mander? Clarke?’ Brell was shoved past as she moved into the Church, grabbed her satchel and her knife and then went for the gun she had stored. With everything packed, she moved out of the building and in the direction of where her Pride would be.

‘Clarke!’ Brell called once more, but the Commander couldn’t care less.

They’d heard her. Five years, five agonising years of her own version of Hell, and they’d listened.

Bellamy had listened.

She didn’t look back as she fled.


	21. Moments Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke takes some time to think, her Panther Kru keep an eye on her

She’d been expecting the rain, and she was thankful for it. Knowing that Wonkru would stay inside and safe, Clarke made her way to the Southern border of the Shallow Valley, away from all the people that had lied to her ever since they got back on this earth.

They’d heard her.

It kept playing over in her head, all the words she had said into that radio. The many times she’d taken a gun to her head, and played with the idea of pulling the trigger. The pleading, the begging, and she’d never got an answer. Never even believed they could hear her, but they had. It wasn’t even that which hurt the most, it was the fact they hadn't told her.

Bellamy hadn't told her.

Betrayal, and she’d thought they’d been making progress. She’d welcomed him into the nest, tried to explain all of the feelings she had been hiding for the years she’d been alone, and Bellamy hadn't told her that the radio worked.

Seda didn’t ask why they were trekking through the rain, nor why she took them towards the hunting region in the lower Valley. She wasn’t particularly hungry, she’d eaten a fish earlier that morning, but it would be good practice for the Cubs. Plus, with the potential of a new Panther coming into the Clan, she would need to maintain strict order amongst the Cubs.

The rain wasn’t loud enough to cover the pounding in her head, the ache of her muscles as they tried to keep up with the fast pace she’d set.

She’d trusted him, she’d trusted all of them.

A sob broke from her lips, bare feet stumbling in the sticky mud until her knees gave way, dropping to the earth. Fingers dug into the mess beneath her, Clarke’s body arching as she let out a scream of frustration.

It went unheard to everything around her, the scream dying as her lungs ran out of air.

Deceived, and she’d been starting to open up to them.

They’d had so many chances to tell her. Why hadn't they? She wanted their comfort, their help, to be able to rely on somebody other than herself for once.

_Do you really deserve that, Wanheda?_

The voice was louder than normal, and Clarke grimaced as the words echoed over and over. She brought her nails to her thighs, let them sink into the scarred skin until black mixed with the mud and rain, washing down her legs.

Clarke had been wrong to think that the Flame could help her. She’d been wrong to think that she could survive this.

Shaking hands reached for her satchel, gripping the smooth-handled gun that was inside. Three rounds in it, but she only needed one.

Once more, the only woman alive on earth found herself with a gun to her chin. But this time, the name wasn’t true. She wasn’t alone anymore, she had other people that knew her. That would miss her.

She was supposed to be negotiating peace, to be making a better home for Shallow Valley, but instead she was being selfish again. She was letting the pain of the betrayal from her friends, from Bellamy, hit her harder than it should. Letting it attack all the parts of her that she’d been trying to bury deep, under laughter and smiles and chatter.

Clarke pulled the trigger, let the round fire up into the trees rather than into her skull. The sound made her ears ring, knocked away the voice that had been deafening, before she let her body crumple to the side.

The Cubs had fled at the gunshot, but Seda had not. She stood on the edge of the clearing, watching as Clarke pulled her legs up to her chest and let the tears fall.

**

Something wet was nudging her cheek. Moisture, a pressure that she batted at with a hand, rolling away from whatever was trying to attack. Instead of the nice blankets she had been expecting, she ended up with a face-full of mud.

Osleya looked amused as Clarke dragged herself up, wiping her hair from her face with a hand stained with mud. She eyed it up distastefully, then looked to her Cub, who was sitting in front of her patiently.

It was morning. Probably mid-morning, looking at the position of the sun, and the rainclouds had gone. She’d slept through the night, without any nightmares. Clarke would have felt pleased at such a thing, had she not been caked in mud that was slowly drying, sticking to her skin uncomfortably.

‘Osleya.’ She mumbled, the Cub responding with a yowl. It was a greeting, one of her softer ones, and Clarke shuffled forwards to rest against the Panther for a moment.

As the sleep slipped from her mind, it was replaced with thoughts of yesterday. Of finally feeling free, of Bellamy’s laughter and Murphy’s smile and Emori’s words of comfort.

Of Kane’s slip-up, and Clarke’s heart breaking all over again.

‘C’mon, I need a wash.’ She stated, accompanying the words with the necessary hand-signals to give her Cub the command. Osleya waited for her to pack the satchel, to place the gun back within her bag, before walking in the direction of where Clarke hoped water would be.

It wasn’t a long walk. She reached a stream, left her satchel with Kappa and stripped down. This end of the Valley was uninhabited, and with the rain only recently stopping, she didn’t expect anyone to have made it this far.

Abandoning her clothes that were deemed “appropriate” for Village life, she waded into the shallow waters. It was freezing, but she found herself thankful for the biting pain of the water. It took away the last painful memories of yesterday, washing downstream with the mud that she scrubbed at.

Clarke took the moment to evaluate everything that had happened. From the peace treaty she needed to be alive to sign, to her friends, to her Mom and then finally Bellamy. Had Kane told him what he accidentally said? Was Bellamy worried for her?

_Since when does Wanheda care about another person?_

Her thighs, under the mess of mud that she got rid of, weren’t as bad as she feared. Small crescent-shaped marks where her nails had broken the skin, overlapping the scars from Praimfaya and the claw-marks from her training with Kepplei a few years ago.

She was getting thinner. To begin with, that had been a habit of being the only person alive. Sometimes, she would forget to eat. Other times, it was hard to find nutrition, and so she had got used to the fact that her body would slim down during these times.

She’d expected to put weight back on, when they came back. Instead, she was wasting away faster, her ribs prominent as she ran her fingers down her sides.

Clarke was dying, and it felt like the biggest relief in her world, apart from one small part of her that asked her what Bellamy would think if he knew.

He’d been one of the first people on this earth that she’d come to respect. He may have tried to play the overconfident role when they first made camp, but he’d grown into a person that could make the tough decisions. A person whose betrayal hurt her more than anything she’d felt before, which confused her.

‘Lexa?’ She wasn’t sure why she asked for the Commander, looking around the clearing for her. Over the years, when hallucinations came and went, Lexa had been the one she enjoyed the most. The only one that would come to her side, and to tell her she had to keep fighting. Jasper had held her, on occasion, with Maya frowning down at her in distaste. Her Father, his usual softness keeping her company in the loneliest of nights.

She wasn’t surprised when the Flame did not respond to her question. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted Lexa here, not when she knew that the Commander was gone. Another one of Clarke’s failures, although the ache had faded with time.

Bellamy had heard everything she’d said on that radio, or at least some of it, and he’d still come to her side without hesitation. He had still trusted her, like she was the old Clarke. Maybe that was why she had fled, because she knew that his faith in her was unfounded. That she would end up hurting him, and all their friends, and it would break whatever she had left.

For the first time since they had landed back on this earth, Clarke longed for her radio. She wanted to spill everything, the pain that came with thinking of him, the tears that welled up when she thought of how happy she had been yesterday.

Seda came to the riverbank, letting out a rumbled growl that told her she was spending too long moping. As ever, her Teacher was patient, up until a point. Clarke rose out of the water, ringing her hair out and moving to her satchel to pick out some clothing.

‘You’re right, Seda.’ Clarke stated to the Panther, who was currently licking one of her paws.

‘A Hunt will make me feel better.’

**

The next night, Clarke slept under the stars. She curled up next to Kappa, who had the honour of the killing bite on their hunt, and let the warmth of both the Panther and the fire lull her to sleep. It had been a day spent foraging and collecting, of chasing down a deer and skinning her prize. Of going back to the simple times, before her heart had to get involved in her decisions. Before she put the Flame into the back of her neck, and pressed the piece into her forehead that dictated her as Commander.

The fire had been a risk, it would be easy to track in the night, but she had promised Kepplei a cooked meal. He preferred his scraps heated, for some reason that always amused Seda, so Clarke had obliged. Plus, she figured she should eat something, even if it had re-emerged a short while after.

Being sick wasn’t a new thing, but the blood that accompanied the meagre amount she’d eaten was.

Clarke had evaluated what could be wrong with her, as she fell asleep, and decided that whatever it was, it probably wasn’t curable. Just like her fracturing mind, it would never go away.

She woke up three times in the night, the first two because of nightmares of sand and hurt brown eyes and the feel of blood on her fingers. The last time was because of Osleya, who had returned from sneaking away to chase the rabbits with three-eyes, flopping down over Clarke like a blanket and chasing away any dangerous dreams.

Waking up wasn’t nice, her body protested from the adrenaline-fuelled running of yesterday. She stretched out, listened to her joints pop and felt the burn race through her.

Tomorrow, she was due at the Canadance Nation. Tomorrow, she would attempt to seal a peace between her people and the outsiders, just like Lexa had done.

She wanted Bellamy by her side. She wanted her friends to support her, Murphy’s sideways glances and Octavia’s brash personality and Echo’s silent assessments. Emori’s growing friendship, Monty’s snarky remarks and Harper’s helpful insights. Raven’s sass, her Mom’s praise and Kane’s proud smile when she managed to succeed.

If she managed to succeed.

She wanted to see Bellamy, to apologise for running from him, but to ask why he hadn't told her. To admit that she didn’t think she was very well.

_A weak Commander cannot make a Union._

Maybe the last bit was better hidden. After all, Clarke was enough of a bother to her friends. She tried to stand, swore under her breath at the pain in her feet. Running barefoot was a habit from her five years alone, something that she had gotten used to, but yesterday she’d pushed too hard. The skin was cracked, thorns and splinters embedded into the soft skin that she would need to deal with.

Seda didn’t even need the command to lead her back towards the Village. In fact, the Cubs closed her in, like they were stopping her from fleeing.

The people of Wonkru smiled to her and bowed, obviously unaware that she had run. They did look slightly wary of her, probably because of her feral-appearance, but Clarke paid them no mind as she moved towards the group of huddled people that were her friends.

‘Clarke!’ Shocked faces turned to her, disbelief and happiness and pride, but Clarke was too busy staring at Bellamy.

He was staring right back at her, with the guilt that she had been expecting, but something beneath that. Care?

‘Clarke, we were worried.’ Brell remarked, having clearly stepped over the line of Warrior/Commander. A friend, who eyed up her current look with a slight curl in her lip.

‘I went Hunting.’ She lied, before rubbing the back of her neck.

‘I’m heading to the med-bay, and then I’ll sort out the groups for the next week.’ She offered, feeling less like a Commander and more like a child. From the varying levels of confusion, she figured that they were still unsure of what mood she was in.

‘Med-bay? You’re injured?!’ Bellamy took a step towards her, and Clarke prided herself in staying still.

‘Just forgot my shoes.’ She looked down to her feet, then realised they were mostly covered in mud and a little dark blood. Ah. At least she’d gone for shorts that covered the marks on her thighs.

‘Come here, I’ll give you a hand. Abby’s gone mad with worry.’ Bellamy took a step closer, waiting for her to accept the touch. She nodded, his arm sliding around her waist to help prop her up.

‘Thanks.’ She murmured, letting herself be led away.


	22. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy knows something's wrong with Clarke, as does Murphy.

‘Up.’ Clarke obeyed him, Bellamy watching the way her muscles moved as she hopped up onto the table. Over the other side of the infirmary, Abby kept shooting him concerned glances, but he figured he could handle this by himself. How complicated could it be? Plus, he was the reason she had run in the first place, with the knowledge that they’d been on the other end of the radio.

‘Sit back, I’ll clean them.’ The fight seemed to have drained out of her, Clarke just nodded vaguely and chewed at her lip while he collected a pair of tweezers, some antiseptic and bandages to wrap her feet once he was done.

Clarke wasn’t angry. He would have been able to tell, he spent the time to study her expression and figure out what was going on in her head.

‘Are we going to talk about this?’ He asked, fingers reaching for one of her ankles and lifting. The bottom of her foot was a mess, so he decided a basin of water was going to be needed.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Her voice was scratchy, rough in a way that implied she’d screamed herself hoarse, and he swallowed down the emotions that threatened to choke him.

‘I figured those moments were private to you. We… I listened. To all of them. I never left the radio. It was selfish, but I couldn’t let you go.’ Beneath the blood and dried mud, her feet were rather rough. Had she really gone without shoes while on the earth by herself?

‘I didn’t even know if you were alive.’ She murmured, studying her nails like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

‘We tried. God, Clarke, I wanted to come and get you so badly.’ His hands faltered, and he looked up to find Clarke’s eyes finally resting on his.

‘It’s okay. You’re here now.’ But are you, Bellamy wanted to ask, watching the way she drifted back inside her own head as he cleaned the mess off her feet. With it gone, he could dab at the cuts and scratches, beginning to take out the splinters and tiny bits of gravel that had been embedded.

‘You know it didn’t change my opinion of you, right? Anything you said.’ He wondered what part worried her most. Was it the moment he thought she’d shot herself, only to hear her sobbing afterwards? Or was it the time when she chatted to them like they were there. Or the day where she admitted that she loved them all so much, that she didn’t know what she’d do if they hated her.

‘I figured, by the fact you’re still here.’ She joked, a brief smile twitching across her lips. Bellamy returned it, finishing up with his cleaning and wrapping her feet in a light dressing.

‘Idiot.’ He said, fondly, smiling back at her.

‘Any other injuries I should know about?’ He wasn’t a medic by any stretch, but he refused to have anyone else this close to Clarke right now. Not when he didn’t know where her head was at.

Clarke faltered, a frown answering the question for him.

‘C’mon, anything that broke the skin could become infected, Princess.’ Bellamy tried the nickname in an attempt to lighten the mood, while trying not to worry about the fact that Clarke was hiding things from him. She looked across to where her Mom was busy with a patient, pretending not to look across every so often, then back to him.

Finally, her hands reached to the hem of her shorts, rolling them up her legs. The raised lines from the claws became visible, and just above that, a set of crescent-shaped marks that were crusted and stained with blood.

Self-inflicted.

Bellamy didn’t let his expression falter, dipped a clean cloth into the antiseptic and moved his hands up her thighs carefully. Clarke had gone back to attacking her lip, biting it hard enough that he could see black blood beading up. He didn’t mention it, cleaned at the marks silently.

‘Will you come with me tomorrow? For the peace-talks.’ He’d been planning on going even if she told him he couldn’t, but it was nice to be asked. Clarke still trusted him, even if he hadn't told her the truth about the radio.

Had he lost the privilege to sleep by her side?

‘Someone’s got to drive the jeep.’ He joked, surprised when she chuckled. It was a sound he wished he could hear more often, and Bellamy was determined to make that happen.

‘I think I’ll leave Octavia as second, and bring Brell with us. Maybe Kane.’ So she wasn’t angry at him either, even though he had been the one to slip up. Bellamy fought the jealousy that came with hearing Brell’s name, wondering when they had become so close.

‘You and Brell seem to get along well.’ Even to his own ears, he could hear the jealousy. Strangely, Clarke didn’t seem to pick up on it, nodding as his hands moved to her other leg.

‘She’s a good Warrior. I just try and keep her and Octavia apart.’ Bellamy thought back to the moment where he’d picked up on that tension, waiting outside the room where Palaya was being held.

‘There’s an issue there?’ He asked, finished cleaning and reluctantly pulling back. Clarke rolled her shorts back down, covering up the marks.

‘Octavia killed her lover, Rhydian, during the settling in the Bunker.’ The jealousy faded a little, Bellamy offering out a hand to help Clarke down from the bed. Her hand was tiny in his, her body looking far too thin, and he wondered if she’d been eating.

‘What’s up?’ Oh, he was staring. He tried not to turn into a mother-hen, but it was difficult, especially when Clarke looked… frail. Those two words, Clarke and frail, had never been in the same sentence before.

‘Have you been eating?’ Clarke’s guilty look was proof enough, and Bellamy sighed. He knew he couldn’t force the issue, but…

He had an idea, moved across the infirmary and ignored the way Abby’s eyes followed him. The medical supplies that he’d brought down from the Ark were his destination, picking up the different vitamins that he knew might help, then turning back to Clarke.

Her eyes widened, before she nodded slowly.

‘It’ll help, and we can start with small meals, yeah?’ He should have done this the moment he got back on this earth, making sure she was alright. The fact that she didn’t fight him was proof enough that she needed his help, her smile hesitant but just as warm as usual.

‘Thank you, Bellamy.’

‘Anytime, Clarke.’

**

Clarke joined them for dinner that evening, moving to the fire and smiling first to her Mom, then to Raven, then to the rest of the group. She had found some boots to put on, had returned her satchel to her nest and then spent the day planning for tomorrow, before going to find Isla. The girl had been with Murphy, bothering him about training her how to use a gun, which made something ache in Clarke’s stomach.

Now, Bellamy moved to the side to make room for her, Clarke perching by his side. The smell of roasting meat was almost too much, overpowering in all the worst ways, but Bellamy just offered out his own plate, with all the greens that she knew he wouldn’t touch piled to one side.

Thankful, Clarke accepted the food, glad he hadn't made a big deal out of it.

‘Do we have a plan for tomorrow?’ Brell asked, having recently joined the Skaikru (plus Echo and Emori) gang.

‘I figured Bellamy will take the jeep, with both you and Kane, if that’s okay?’ She glanced across to Kane, who nodded quickly, and Brell smiled.

‘Can I leave you as Second?’ Clarke added, turning to Octavia, who quite happily agreed to the role. It helped that she had led Wonkru for the time during the Bunker occupancy, it meant she naturally settled into the role well.

‘Are you coming in the jeep with us?’ Bellamy asked, fingers sneaking another piece of meat from the plate she was holding. Honestly, it was his food to begin with, he didn’t need to try and hide the fact that he kept coming back for the venison at the side.

‘I might ride out, it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to travel that far on horseback.’ Clarke missed the freedom, if she was honest with herself, snacking on another bite of green. Her stomach twisted slightly, warning her that she was pushing her limits.

‘Are you prepared for the talks?’ Raven asked, while Harper moved around the fire and topped plates up. Clarke grimaced, staring at the growing pile of food she had to eat. But not eating would appear rude, especially given the fact she fled yesterday, so she swallowed down the nausea and took another bite.

‘They’re at a disadvantage, I’d be surprised if they’re openly hostile.’ Clarke’s words were accompanied by some nodding from the others, chatter about the numbers of the new Nation and the plans for incorporating them in.

‘You’ve gone pale.’ Bellamy whispered, looking concerned, and Clarke felt her stomach rebel.

‘Excuse me.’ She managed to get away in time to reach the forest line, stumbling blindly before dropping to her knees.

The food came up easily, retching at the foul taste as her stomach tightened. It took a while before her body stopped trying to hurl up her insides, Clarke dropping back to rest against one of the trees.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, stared at the black smear it left over her pale skin.

Huh.

‘Clarke?’ Bellamy, who had probably been nominated to be on Clarke-watch. She rose to her feet, unsteady but determined not to let him realise just how sick she was. When he spotted her, his eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile appearing.

‘Sorry, stomach didn’t agree with me.’ She stated, hoping the blood wasn’t visible on her face. Bellamy just shrugged, so it clearly wasn’t obvious, wrapping an arm around her shoulders when she got close enough.

‘I think we should try hot broth, that’s usually good for nausea.’

**

Murphy watched as Bellamy handed across the steaming bowl, noted how pale Clarke looked as she began to eat again. The Commander looked thin, cheekbones becoming more defined, body looking thin enough to snap in half.

She was ill. More than she wanted them to know, if he had to take a guess.

Clarke finished the soup with only a few grimaces, managed to keep it down as the talk over the fire continued. She even joined in, and for a moment, Murphy could pretend that everything was okay.

But when she rose to head to her bed (or the pile of blankets that she called her bed), Murphy noted the way her body seemed to struggle to obey the strain of standing. The way she wobbled for the first couple of steps, before straightening her back and rolling back her shoulders, like it took effort to move in such a way.

None of the others had picked up on it, continuing to chatter amongst themselves.

None, apart from Bellamy, who watched her all the way to the door. Once she was gone, he waited for the appropriate length of time before yawning, stating that he was going to bed as well. He ruffled Octavia’s hair, smiled to the others, and Murphy watched as he walked in the direction of the Spacekru homes.

At the last moment, with nobody’s attention on him, he changed course and moved up the steps to the Church. There was only one room in that direction, Clarke’s.

Murphy could only hope that Bellamy made sure that Clarke was okay.


	23. Canadance Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's got a Peace Treaty to manage, and another person who knows she's ill

Hooves skidded into sand, the horse under her whinnying as the people of the Canadance Bunker gathered. Whispers spread like a virus, murmurs of her name and the title that she had been given. She didn’t ask how they knew what she was, simply dismounted from the mare and ran a hand up to her muzzle, soothing the animal that had brought her here.

The jeep pulled up, Kane and Brell exiting first, with Bellamy close behind. It had not been a long journey, to the sands and the tents that they had set up, but it had been enough time for Clarke to prepare herself. She stood tall, clicked her tongue and let the horse wander across to Brell. By her side, Seda seated herself down, eyeing up the Camp in front with hesitancy.

They had weapons. She could see them, the shine of a gun, knives tucked into belts. Nothing like the Grounder Village, but it was enough to have her heartrate picking up. All it took was one foul-tempered person, and Clarke would be outnumbered.

‘Commander!’ The crowds parted, Clarke hiding her relief at spotting Joshua. He smiled warmly in her direction, came across and offered out his hand like he had done before. The difference was Clarke’s reaction, rather than the typical handshake, she grasped his arm like she would a Warrior.

He did not shy away, gripped her just as tightly in an understanding of customs.

‘The Council wants to see you.’ She’d expected that, nodded in the direction of her friends, and then turned back to Joshua.

This was her Peace Treaty, and she would make it work.

**

‘The overall feeling?’ She questioned, eyes in front even if the words were aimed at the man by her side. He led her through the Camp, in the direction of what he called the Council Tent, and it gave Clarke the time to admire the set-up that they had managed. She received some wary looks, nervous glances and curiosity from those around her, but that was to be expected.

‘Most are happy with your suggestions. There is a small group, led by one of the Councillors, that think they should keep governance. She’s trying to spread rumours of your… history, about what we heard on radios and chatter from the ground.’ Clarke hadn't expected this to be easy. She knew that she’d have a fight on her hands, whether it be with words or weapons.

Seda kept at her heel, all the way to the Tent.

‘I should tell you… they don’t think me a suitable choice for the second leader.’ That surprised her, and Clarke glanced across to him in confusion. Was it his age? She had to be the same age as him, yet she commanded all of Wonkru.

‘Something to do with the company I keep.’ His head ducked away, cheeks flushing slightly red, and Clarke took a moment to figure it out. When she did, her gut tightened.

‘Once you are in Wonkru, you abide by our customs. A partner is picked on loyalty, not on gender.’ She stated firmly, watching his eyes widen.

‘I didn’t think…’

‘We aren’t savages, you know.’ She joked, before Joshua chuckled. He reached for the tent, lifting it slightly and inviting her in. Clarke looked from him, to Seda, and then to the room in front.

Six people, seated in front of her in a way that reminded her of Lexa’s Alliance. Two women, four men, and all of them looked to be far older than she’d expected. Closer to Kane and Abby’s age, and Clarke looked over each one. She didn’t bother hurrying, took in all that there was to see, focusing on the woman at the end.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that she was the one who had issues with this peace treaty. Her eyes were distrusting, lips drawn back into a curled look of annoyance. Fear.

‘Commander, may I present the Council.’ Joshua gestured to those in front, and Clarke inclined her head. The man seated in the middle, with a greying beard and a rounded-stomach, smiled at her.

‘Welcome to our people, Commander. My name is Erik, I’m Joshua’s Father.’ Which was why he had been assigned the job of going to Shallow Valley. Clarke made a note of it, then relaxed her expression enough to smile.

‘And you six speak for your people?’ She inquired, letting her fingers drift to Seda’s ears. The Panther tilted into the touch slightly, while the Councillors watched with wide eyes.

‘We do. This is my brother, Damien. Felix, David, Lucy and Eleanor.’ Each assigned a name, Clarke halting on the last woman, before turning back to Erik.

‘I believe we should start discussing the agreements of a Treaty.’

**

They had demands. Clarke had expected that, stayed seated on the chair she had been offered and occasionally looked to Joshua. The Council had tried to dismiss him, but Clarke had argued against that. Seda stayed between them, slumped on the desert floor and occasionally raising her head when the tone in the room changed.

Some things, she could consider. They had asked that they maintain the right to form their own Council, of which she had agreed. In return, she got to split them into the two groups as required, and chose the Leaders of each half. They would sit on her Council, and would be able to bring her the issues of the group.

‘You cannot expect us to bow down to you!’ Eleanor indignantly snapped, Clarke leaning forward in her chair.

‘You are moving into my Valley, living in my houses, and eating my animals and plants. I have every right to command your people, and to ask you obey the rules that maintain the sanctuary of the Village.’ Her words brought a silence that fell, a fear that crackled under the surface as she dared the woman to fight back.

‘May I ask, the position of Commander, how is it achieved?’ They all looked curious, and Clarke decided that they would have to learn anyway.

‘By a Conclave. Each of the Clans supply a Warrior to fight, and the winner takes the position of Heda.’ A couple of surprised looks, Erik being the only one brave enough to question her further.

‘To the death?’

‘Traditionally, yes. I changed such a rule.’ Although she had killed the last member of the Conclave, determined not to let him take control of Wonkru.

‘And if the people have no faith in their ruler?’ Eleanor’s words brought looks of disapproval, but Clarke merely shrugged.

‘A vote of no confidence may be called. If it is supported by all the Clan Leaders, then a Warrior can be nominated from the Clan that called the vote, to face the Commander.’ It seemed to settle her, for she nodded and looked away from Clarke’s gaze.

‘Our two groups, who would lead them?’ Erik asked, returning to the notes he had been making. An official document would be drawn up, once they were agreed, and Clarke would ensure each of the six signed it.

‘Half of you would join Podakru, the Lake People, under the control of one of the three surviving members of that Clan. The other half would become Yujleda, the Broadleaf Clan.’ She had considered creating a new Clan entirely, but it would prove difficult to navigate, and so she had settled for this compromise. There would only be thirteen Clans, with one of them dying in the Black rain.

‘Under the command of…’ Damien began, while Clarke nodded across to Joshua.

‘Under Joshua’s Command.’ He looked startled, as did the six Councillors in front. Already, they began to protest, to state that it should be one of the six of them, but Clarke held her hand up. She forgot, momentarily, that this was not her Council. Despite that fact, they still fell silent.

‘I assign the leaders, on the basis of who I can trust. He stepped forward to speak for your people, when none of you did. He is my choice.’ Clarke waited for the fight that she knew would come, but surprisingly, it was only Eleanor that spoke up.

‘He’s not a Leader. Plus, his dalliances with that boy from maintenance…’ Ah, so the issue was not just that it was a man, but that it was someone of a lower class. She wondered how they would settle in to Shallow Valley, with none of them higher than the rest, the only people that gained respect being those that earned her favour.

‘Is your issue his gender?’ Clarke questioned sharply, Joshua’s cheeks burning red as he tried to disappear into the chair that he was seated on. Erik shifted in his own, looking uncomfortable with the change of topic.

‘My son’s… questionable taste in…’ Clarke cut him off once more, to repeat the question.

‘It isn’t something usually allowed in the Canadance Bunker.’ Lucy, the kindest of the group, provided. Each of the six Councillors had fallen quiet, like they waited for Clarke’s verdict on such a matter, and the Commander fought to keep her tongue in check.

‘I suggest you lose such hostility before signing the Treaty. It will not be tolerated under my rule.’ She made her tone cold, left no room for any arguments.

‘It is allowed, in… Wonkru?’ Felix asked, testing the name of the people on his tongue.

‘Allowed?’ Clarke scoffed, ‘It was never prohibited. You are lucky I am generous, the old Commander would have had your head for your words.’ Again, Lexa did not appear, but Clarke could hear a faint chuckle inside her head, agreement of the words.

‘You sign the treaty, or you do not. Without the agreement, you are not welcome in our Valley. I’ll leave you to discuss.’

**

Clarke stayed by Joshua’s side as they walked around the Camp, Clarke offering smiles and words to all those who stopped. Slowly, the people of the Canadance Bunker began to open up, more and more people halting to speak with her. Most were anxious for a permanent home, happy that she was allowing them into the Valley. They were kinder than the six people who ruled them, with less stigma over the “norms” of society.

She spoke of the houses, of the farms and the hunting and the grass. Most smiled dreamily, spoke in tones of awe at the fact they had not been in such a place for years. Some of the children, those who were barely on their feet, had never seen such plants before. Clarke noted that Bellamy, Brell and Kane had all taken the time to speak to the people as well, she spotted them on several occasions moving around.

‘So, when do I get to meet your boyfriend?’ Clarke looked to Joshua, who faltered momentarily in his step. Then, a shy smile crossed his face.

‘C’mon, before my cousins find out I’m taking you to see him.’ She’d learned that not only was Erik Joshua’s father, and Damien his Uncle, but the two boys that had accompanied him on his trip were his cousins. Adam and Adrian, Clarke paying particular attention to the former, the one that she believed was too trigger-happy to be wielding a gun.

‘Is Adam close to Eleanor?’ If Clarke was to be successful in her attempts to keep Wonkru safe, she needed to predict which people would band together. Eleanor wasn’t a fool, she wouldn’t ever pull the trigger herself. It was more likely that she found somebody else to take such a risk.

‘They talk. The elders, that’s the council, they’re all close. I… Clarke, are you okay?’ She’d faltered, her steps halting as she rose a hand to her nose, a headache coming on quicker than she’d thought possible.

Now was not the time to look weak. She tried to straighten her back, only for an ache to race up her spine, and Joshua’s hand reached out to steady her.

‘Clarke?’ He hissed, quickly tugging her into the building they had been heading to. The door was shut, and Clarke whimpered in pain as she slid down to the ground.

‘Josh? Who’s… oh shit, is that her?’ Someone was talking, but the Commander was more focused on the pounding inside her head.

It settled, right around the time that a cloth was handed to her so she could stem the nosebleed. When she dared to open her eyes, Joshua was crouched down in front of her, with another man by his side.

He had blond hair, long enough that it hit his shoulders, and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. This had to be Joshua’s lover, she concluded, struggling to her feet.

‘Clarke?’ Joshua’s voice cut her thoughts off, and she looked across to him. 

‘I’m fine. Sorry, I…’ _I’m dying,_ ‘I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, nothing to worry about.’ She pulled the cloth away from her face, caught them eyeing up the dark blood that stained it.

‘Now, weren’t you about to introduce us?’

**

The rest of the day was spent signing documents, with Kane’s chatter to keep the Councillors busy. Bellamy stayed by her side, Brell on the other, and Joshua had promised to keep the incident with the headache to himself. Good, the last thing she needed was for the others to worry about her. Joshua’s boyfriend, Liam, had left the moment they had to go back to the Council. Something about not wanting to ruin Joshua’s reputation, a thing she would have to work to fix once they were in Wonkru.

It was agreed that they would start the move tomorrow, that Clarke would welcome them in herself when they arrived. From then, they’d have three days to settle, before they were expected to fall in line with the rest of Wonkru, starting up the jobs that she would assign.

‘You did it.’ Bellamy remarked, nudging her shoulder. She smiled, leaning back into his touch slightly. In truth, she just wanted to go back to the Village, to shed the leather and the paint that darkened her eyes, to go back to being Clarke, not the Commander of Death.

‘We look forward to our coalition, Commander.’ Erik stated, offering out his hand. Joshua was smirking, knowing that handshakes were not exactly something she did, but she accepted his hand anyway. A quick shake, before Eleanor was speaking.

‘We also thought a gift was in order, considering your… generosity.’ Her words were laced with something else, a warning that she picked up on, but the other Councillors quickly led her from the tent.

She was walked towards the animals, the ones they had caged up before Praimfaya, and Clarke took a moment to pity them. She moved to each cage that she passed, knowing they would be free soon. It was one of her stipulations, that they would not remain chained up now that the people had access to food.

‘Your gift, Commander Clarke.’ Erik stepped to the side, and Clarke felt her smile break free before she could stop it.

Caged together, two sets of yellow eyes, dark fur shiny.

Panthers.

**

Bellamy didn’t dare stop her. Clarke moved forward with absolutely no hesitation, her Panther at her side, towards the two caged. A silence had fallen around the group, including the councillor that Clarke had told them not to trust. Eleanor, if Bellamy had been listening correctly, who had a smug smile on her face.

He turned back to Clarke, who was back to making hand-gestures and clicking sounds, her Panther growling before approaching the bars.

It was terrifying to watch. Bellamy still remembered when he first made it to the ground, the fear of the creatures that could kill. Now, as Clarke’s steady hand stretched out, he wondered how she had first tamed Seda.

Was it by luck? Had she known she wasn’t going to be eaten, or had she been uncaring?

The Panther in the cage snapped and snarled, but Clarke was gentle.

‘Keys.’ She snapped, not taking her eyes off of the two in front.

It was Joshua that snatched them from Erik, approaching her with fear. A tremble that Bellamy would have found amusing, had he not also been terrified, watching as Clarke undid the Cage.

She stepped in without faltering, Seda at her side, and clicked the cage behind her.

For a moment, Bellamy thought she would be attacked. The two Panthers snarled, bared sharp teeth and growled, but Clarke merely waited patiently. Then, as she crouched down, the sounds stopped.

Seda did not need to step in, for they did not attack. One of them stepped forward, and Clarke lay a hand on the creature’s head, let it run back to its ears.

‘I thank you for the gift.’ She murmured, just loud enough for them to hear.

Bellamy noted that Eleanor looked disappointed.


	24. Babies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the chapter title is just because of Efana!

Clarke cooed, offered out her hand to her youngest Cub. Woda licked at her hand, a purr rumbling from her chest as she stole Osleya’s spot by Clarke’s side. It was amusing to see, especially when her brother was still being moody. He sat on the edge of the Pride, having been told off by Clarke for growling at Bellamy.

‘He’s one of us, Graun.’ Now, the Panther slowly moved forwards, ears flat back and head bowed in submission. Seda had felt comfortable enough to leave them, wandering off to Isla to keep her company instead.

The Village had been pleased to here of the peace that was coming, although Clarke had admitted to her Council that she was unsure of Eleanor’s position. They had agreed that she had done the best thing possible, and had brought three more chairs for her council. One for Isla, who Clarke deemed ready to join the table. One for Joshua, for his arrival. And the other for the boy from Ingranronakru, Evan, who was stepping up under Clarke’s careful guidance.

Her new Panthers had been very excited to meet the Cubs, and the five of them had quickly fallen into chaos. Scrapping, biting, teasing fights to try and establish the hierarchy. Seda was the top Panther, Clarke slightly above her, and the Cubs needed to secure their place. Osleya and Woda had become quick friends, with the boys taking slightly longer to settle.

At the fire, she could see her friends all discussing the oncoming arrival of the new nation. Bellamy had wanted to stay by her side, but she’d suggested that a little time to help the new Panthers settle was a good idea. He’d left with her promise that she would eat, Clarke deciding a Hunt was the perfect way to bond.

She stood up, stripped off the jacket and the forehead piece, then remembered the gun tucked into her belt. She grimaced, took it out hesitantly, the weight in her hand feeling as heavy as the pressure in her chest.

‘Commander?’ Clarke startled, lowered the gun and looked across to Efana. She was staring at the gun as well, which Clarke tucked back into her belt smoothly.

‘I haven’t seen you use one of those.’ Efana remarked, the Commander thinking back to the many times she’d held that gun. The intention always the same, with the potential of pulling the trigger. She chuckled awkwardly, knew that she’d drawn Bellamy’s attention at the very least.

Now that she knew they had listened to the radio, the gun made her feel guilty.

‘No need. What can I do for you?’ She kept her tone friendly, watched as Graun sized up the Warrior. She shot her new Panther a look, one that had his ears flicking, eyes filled with mischief. She had named the two of them after the earth and water, two of the elements that she thought suited them.

‘I was wondering if I could have my duties reassigned for tomorrow, if possible.’ Clarke halted, studied the woman in front.

‘Of course, is there anything I can help you with?’ Efana glanced around, then back to Clarke.

‘Actually, I was a little worried…’ Clarke drew her away from the Camp, so they could speak freely. Efana looked unsure, nothing like the Warrior she knew, and Clarke waited patiently.

‘I think I might be with child.’ Not what she’d expected. Clarke felt her mouth drop, before she quickly schooled her expression. Her eyes flicked to the woman’s stomach, not that she could see anything through the leathers.

‘Meet me outside the Church at dawn. I’ll take you down to the infirmary.’ The woman’s smile was brilliant, but the pain under it told her exactly whose baby it was.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.’ Clarke whispered, Efana’s eyes filling with tears briefly. A hand closed over hers, a moment shared between the two of them.

‘You did everything you could, Clarke.’

**

The Hunt had been a success. Clarke washed the blood from her hands in the stream, let the fire crackle as the deer cooked slowly. Six hungry Panthers waited for their reward, none willing to go first, all waiting for Clarke to deem it acceptable. She turned back to them, smiled when they all rose their heads to look at her.

Seda was looking old, the hair around her muzzle turning grey with age. The Cubs were getting big now, overtaking her in size, and Clarke found herself wondering what would have happened if she’d found them later. If Seda hadn't come to her, and Clarke had been a threat. Would they have killed her? Hunted her down?

Or, like Seda, did they know she was tainted? Clarke moved away from the stream, back to the deer and used her knife to cut off a portion of cooking meat. It was enough for her, although Bellamy would point out that it was barely a mouthful.

She took down the stand, before gesturing for the Panthers to have their fill. Six sets of teeth ripped into the carcass, while Clarke propped herself up against a tree and chewed on the piece she’d given herself.

Seda was the first to come to her side, nudging at her arm until Clarke wrapped it around her.

‘Do you know why I’m dying?’ Clarke questioned her friend, Seda studying her curiously. For a moment, she could have sworn that the creature understood the question. But then Seda was slumping down onto her lap, and Clarke forgot all about the headache and pains in her joints, simply lay a hand over her long-standing friend.

‘Rest, Seda. I’ll keep watch.’

**

Dawn brought with it hope. Clarke slipped out of the nest, left Bellamy sleeping with Osleya by his side. Dressing quickly, Clarke headed to the steps of the Church, found Efana leaning against the building. The Warrior straightened when she saw Clarke, a hesitant smile crossing her face, and the Commander smiled back.

‘Come on, I’ve made sure that the infirmary is empty.’ She led the way, through the houses and to the main building that she’d equipped herself. Most of the stuff had come from Bekka’s lab, along with the solar panels that Clarke had tried to set up herself to power this place. It was now Raven and Monty’s job, the two of them engineering this place so that electricity could be provided.

The infirmary was empty, so Clarke led Efana across to one of the cubicles.

‘How far along do you think you are?’ Clarke hadn't wanted to be a Doctor. She had grown up watching her Mother heal people, but strangely, her mind had never stayed with the idea of becoming a Doctor. It didn’t mean she was naïve to the methods. Their home had been filled with medical books, and Clarke had learned a lot since coming to the ground.

‘Around fourteen weeks.’ Quite far along for first contact, but Clarke understood why the Warrior had waited.

Efana slowly settled on the bed, Clarke moving to the ultrasound machine. She’d done this a couple of times, although never without Jackson or her Mom to supervise.

‘I’ll have a look, we might be able to hear baby’s heartbeat at fourteen weeks.’ Efana nodded nervously, fingers reaching for the hem of her shirt and slowly lifting it up.

Without the leathers, Clarke had seen the faint trace of a bump on the woman’s otherwise flat stomach. Now, with no fabric in the way, it was quite clear. Small, admittedly, but very much present. Clarke knew the woman was terrified, could see it in the way her chest was rising and falling, so she moved slowly.

‘This might be cold.’ She warned, before smoothing the gel over the woman’s stomach.

‘Is this your first?’ She knew Efana didn’t have a living child, but that didn’t mean much when the Grounders had faced so much.

‘Yes. I… I didn’t think I could have children.’ Clarke turned the machine on, reached steadily for the equipment. She had been surprised that all of it still worked, but Raven had taken the time to try and explain it to her. Truthfully, Clarke wasn’t an engineer or a mechanic. The jeep was proof of that, she’d held it together with tape and pieces of fabric, barely knowing how to jeep it running.

Plus, fuel wasn’t easy to come by. Bekka’s lab had a store, but Clarke didn’t want to use that unless she had to.

On the monitor, the faintest blur began to form, Clarke glad that she’d dimmed the lights enough to properly study the screen. She knew what she was looking for, just about, tracked the edge of the image and stared.

‘Is that…’

‘Yep. That’s your baby.’ Clarke watched Efana’s eyes widen, the bright smile that crossed the Warrior’s face. The crackling sound started to fade, taken over by a beat that Clarke counted in her head, perfectly rhythmic.

‘Can… do you know what it is?’ Clarke halted the camera, clicked the keyboard to collect the image and print it out.

‘Not yet. Give it another five weeks, and at your next scan I’ll be able to tell.’ She might need her Mom’s help for that, she wasn’t quite as good.

Footsteps sounded outside the cubicle, and Efana reached for her knife. Clarke’s hand shot back to her own weapon, but the person didn’t enter.

‘Clarke?’ Bellamy.

‘Bellamy, I…’

‘It’s okay.’ Efana stated, and Clarke studied her for a moment, before drawing back the curtain. Bellamy’s eyes showed concern, before they flicked past Clarke to the woman on the bed.

**

He’d woken up to something nudging at his cheek. Bellamy’s immediate thought was that it was Clarke, a random thought considering they slept with a pile of Panthers between them. In fact, the chance of him being able to curl against Clarke’s side had decreased, with the arrival of two more Panthers that were slightly hesitant of him.

Still, he reached out lazily for her, brain not quite up to speed with what was going on around him. When his hand connected with fur, he flicked his eyes open, only to find Osleya peering down at him.

Clarke’s side of the nest was empty, her boots gone, and Bellamy’s worry increased. It didn’t take him long to stalk around the village, halting when one of the early-risers from the farming group told him he’d seen Clarke heading to the infirmary.

Voices could be heard, a cubicle drawn at the end, and he moved towards it only to pause. If Clarke was ill, and trying to hide it, should he be forcing the issue?

Luckily, as he spoke her name, the answer came quickly. The curtain was drawn back, and it wasn’t Clarke seated on the bed.

Efana, the Council-member that usually spent her time with her Clan. Bellamy looked between them, then to the screen and the blurred picture.

‘Efana thought she might be pregnant. We were keeping it under wraps.’ Clarke explained, drawing the curtain behind him, and he felt awfully like he was intruding. Still, Clarke returned to wipe the slimy substance of the woman’s stomach, Efana sitting up.

‘I haven’t told my Clan yet.’ Efana and Bellamy had spoken a couple of times, but this was certainly more personal.

‘I’m sorry for intruding, I thought…’

‘No trouble. You were looking for your _hod._ ’ The slip into Trig was unexpected, and Bellamy regretted not joining in Emori and Echo’s lessons on the language. Whatever the word meant, it had Clarke blushing, even though she kept her back to him.

Efana took the picture, admired it with a smile.

‘The first child born in your reign, Commander.’ Clarke’s smile was blinding, he’d never seen her coo over a child before, but the two women were looking at the picture with hope.

Efana excused herself, leaving Clarke to pack up the machine.

‘Sorry for not telling you where I was going.’ Clarke spoke, glancing back to him as she did so.

‘It’s alright. I woke up to Osleya nudging me.’ That made her chuckle, before she finished packing away, turned to smile up at him.

‘Fancy a ride out to the Valley? I thought we could watch the Canadance Nation move their people.’ It sounded like a good idea, plus he had nothing else to do today.

Nothing except find out what that word meant.

**

‘O!’ Octavia’s head snapped up, Raven looking in Bellamy’s direction as he came jogging across. He was dressed rather casually, a thin shirt untucked into his normal trousers, only one weapon in sight, the knife at his hip. Almost like he’d woken in a hurry.

They were having breakfast, Indra explaining the changing duties to them as they ate. Abby and Kane were discussing the school, whereas Raven had already got a job to do. Extending the solar panels, stretching their power source to the entire Village.

‘Bell, what’s up?’ He ran a hand through his hair briefly, before stealing a piece of fish from Echo’s plate. She regarded him coolly, before internally deciding that stabbing him wasn’t worth it. Raven smirked at the exchange, the two had a habit of winding each other up, and then looked back to Bellamy.

‘What does _hod_ mean?’ Raven knew a little Trig, nothing like Clarke and Octavia.

‘Who said it?’ Octavia cut in before Indra could answer, heads curiously turning towards him. Bellamy seemed to realise he was walking into a trap, but he eventually sighed.

‘Efana. Talking about how I viewed Clarke.’ Raven glanced to Octavia, the girl’s grin stretching all the way to her eyes. Echo and Emori looked just as amused, Indra remaining neutral. The mention of Clarke had Abby and Kane pausing their conversation to look at Bellamy.

Across the other end of the clearing, Clarke had appeared. She had her horse back by her side, was standing close enough to the creature to talk to it, lips moving rapidly as the horse stayed still.

‘Makes sense.’ Echo mused, Octavia nodding.

‘O…’ Bellamy warned, evidently not in the mood for the teasing. Raven was enjoying this far too much, watched as Bellamy’s gaze flicked back to where Clarke had mounted the horse. The mechanic wasn’t quite sure how Clarke had tamed almost all the animals in the Valley, but it was useful, especially considering the state she’d left the jeep in.

Clarke certainly wasn’t a mechanic.

‘It means love.’ Emori cut in, and Bellamy’s eyes widened. For a moment, Raven thought he would try and deny it.

But he didn’t, just turned back and jogged across to Clarke. Raven watched as the Commander offered out her hand to him, Bellamy swinging up to settle on the horse behind her.

‘I give it a week before Clarke realises.’ Murphy said, with a mouth full of fish. Emori hit his arm, whereas Octavia snorted.

‘I give it three days.’


	25. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Canadance people have arrived, and Clarke's figured out part of the reason why she's sick. Also, Lexa's back

The Village was busy. Clarke stilled the horse under her, soothed the mare as she snorted in distaste. It probably had something to do with the Caged animals that were currently being transported through the Valley. Canadance Nation had arrived, bringing with it the many people in the Village. Some of the Clans had come to assist, others stayed at a distance.

‘What’s going on in that head of yours, Princess?’ Bellamy asked from behind her. There was a hand resting on her hip, and she was glad that she was wearing leathers today. Otherwise, he might question why she was still losing weight.

‘Just thinking. Waiting to see how they’ll respond to Isla.’ It was one of her fears, that she was putting the girl in danger just by favouring her. Still, she didn’t trust the Canadance people just yet, none apart from Joshua. Finding another leader would be difficult, so she trusted that Isla would be able to manage the command. Plus, she’d been raised amongst Grounders. Children grew up quicker, they knew their place, and she could lay her faith in the girl.

‘She’ll be fine. C’mon, time for your first full Council.’ Bellamy, whether he realised it or not, had learned over the past four days how to command the horse. His leg shifted back, a gentle squeeze that was accompanied by him clicking his tongue, enough for the mare to listen. Clarke smiled, relaxed back into his hold as they made their way back down the Valley.

In the Village, the people greeted the two of them with smiles and bowed heads, Clarke noting the very obvious difference between Wonkru and the new arrivals. They looked unsure, moved around the village with movements that were thought about, not wandering for the joy of interaction. Isla was by her set of buildings, talking to Joshua, who seemed to have settled to her company. When the horse halted, it drew the attention of the two of them.

Bellamy dismounted first, before a hand came to help her follow. She didn’t need it, but for some reason, the touch was grounding.

‘Commander.’ Joshua greeted, a bright smile on his face as he inclined his head. He also nodded to Bellamy, in one of those typical-guy moves that had Clarke rolling her eyes.

‘Up to the Church. We’ve got a lot to discuss.’

**

Bellamy took his seat by Clarke’s side, a position that had been his for the last three Council meetings. Usually, it was reserved for the Commander’s second, which would be Brell. But the woman made no move to scold him for it, instead smirked, like she knew what he was trying to do.

Funny, because Bellamy wasn’t sure what he was hoping to achieve either. Things between him and Clarke had been complicated, ever since they first landed on the ground. To begin with, his loyalty to her came because he knew she was a good leader. That she would do anything to protect them, and that her heart was the purest of them all. As time went by, as Clarke sacrificed more and more to keep Skaikru safe, he began to see a change.

She was still pure-hearted. But the change was with how she viewed herself, like those five years apart had proved. It had also shown him that he wasn’t good without her, that he needed Clarke by his side. So, returning to earth, he had vowed to do just that.

He might have, somewhere along the line, taken it slightly further than he’d expected. Clarke’s smile was a direct link to his own, her presence was something he found himself craving more and more. Strangely, Clarke hadn't questioned it. Sometimes, he saw the surprised glances she would shoot in his direction when he stuck to her side, but she had never asked him why.

Conversations began, mostly about job allocations and the solar panels that Raven and Monty were working on. Joshua was quick to pick up on what parts he could ask about, and what had already been decided. Isla provided a useful insight on her views of the new Lake People, which Joshua listened to and made notes on. Evan, the replacement for Ingranronakru, stayed mostly silent apart from when Clarke questioned him directly.

‘Could I make a suggestion, Commander?’ Bellamy liked Joshua. To begin with, he’d viewed the man with some weird feeling in his gut, watching the way Clarke seemed to trust him. Then Clarke had explained that Joshua had risen to her favour mostly because of how strong he was as a person, of the prejudice he faced in his own people, yet he continued to have faith in himself. If Clarke trusted him, then so did Bellamy.

When he’d said that to the others, Murphy had looked amused. So had the others, looking at him with that knowing expression that made him think back to asking Octavia what the Trig word had meant.

‘Speak freely.’

‘I’m unsure of your customs, but would it be a bad idea to suggest a festival of some sort? To encourage all of Wonkru to celebrate the treaty?’ It immediately brought silence to the table, all heads turning to Clarke, who cocked her head to the side in a way that made Bellamy’s chest tighten.

‘A feast?’

‘We could include some music, drinking… A night to join us together.’ The suggestion was one that Clarke approved of, Bellamy could see it in her eyes. She looked around the table and, finding nobody protesting, Clarke nodded her head.

‘Tomorrow eve, a celebration of the unity of Wonkru. We’ll send out hunting parties in the morning, and the children can make decorations.’ She looked to Kane as she spoke the last part, the teacher looking impressed.

‘What of the last time we rose a drink to an alliance?’ Brell questioned, though not nastily. Joshua’s expression crumpled into a frown, and a couple of looks of confusion came from those around the table. Not all of them knew, then, what had happened.

‘We rose a drink to the old Commander, Lexa kom Trikru, but it had been poisoned. One of Skaikru was blamed.’ Clarke told those that looked confused, Isla perking up at the mention of the old Commander. She’d been raised on legends of Lexa, and Bellamy could understand the infatuation.

‘What happened?’ Joshua asked, looking shocked.

‘Raven was found with a bottle that had been planted on her.’ Joshua’s head spun to where Raven was standing, against one of the far walls. By her side, Emori, Harper and Monty, those that didn’t sit at the table. Abby was usually there, but Bellamy noted she hadn't come to this meeting.

‘Clarke drank from the bottle, to prove that it was the cup that had been poisoned.’ Bellamy cut in, and Joshua looked impressed.

‘The old Commander? How… did she die in Praimfaya?’ Bellamy tensed, as did several around the table. Clarke merely shook her head, seemingly unaffected by the question.

‘She was shot, by accident, by one of her own.’ That settled the discussion about Lexa, the topic falling back onto the celebration they were going to have. It was agreed that Bellamy and Brell would stay close to Clarke, and that her food and drink would be monitored.

Bellamy didn’t want to point out that he was doing that anyway, to make sure that Clarke got enough into her. The Commander dismissed the Council, stating that the sun was setting and they should probably get to bed. Plus, with her prediction of rainfall early in the morning, it was important that the Village got inside.

He would have followed her to the nest, apart from the fact that nobody knew they were sharing a room yet. Well, apart from Murphy, who had somehow figured it out.

A hand grabbed his arm, Bellamy halting to find Joshua looking up at him.

‘Sorry, I just… I saw the way you all tensed up when I mentioned the old Commander, am I…’ He was new. He’d struggle to understand their ways, to begin with. Already, Bellamy could tell that it would take a while for the Canadance nation to understand their ways.

‘Lexa and Clarke were… together.’ Shock, followed by understanding, then horror.

‘Shit, I shouldn’t have…’

‘Don’t worry. Clarke wouldn’t have answered, if she was bothered by it.’ That wasn’t entirely true, Clarke had a habit of always pushing down her own feelings. Joshua nodded, followed the others out, and Bellamy looked in the direction of Clarke’s room.

He could only hope that this peace treaty would hold, and Clarke would realise how brilliant she had been.

**

Clarke had never felt peace like this before. She had woken up to Bellamy’s arm slung over her shoulders, something that had never happened before. Usually, Osleya always stayed between them, but the Panther was curled up by Graun in the far corner. Clarke had taken a moment to just watch Bellamy sleep, she’d never seen him so… undisturbed. It made her stomach burn fiercely, the desire to keep him safe overwhelming her.

It had led her to wander out of the Church, brewing some leaves in hot water to drink as she stepped out into the rain. It was light out, the sun just rising, but the rain would put a halt to the day until mid-morning. Later, there would be a rush to prepare for the feast, to hunt and decorate and prepare for tonight.

But at the moment, there was quiet. The rain splashed down around her, steam rising from the drink she held between her hands, and Clarke tipped her head back to soak in the moment.

Sleep came easier, with Bellamy by her side. The nightmares had quietened, and she’d even managed to keep a little food down at all three meals in her day. The headaches were limited, she could predict when her nose would begin to bleed, and she was pretty sure she’d diagnosed herself correctly.

Checking to make sure that nobody was watching, Clarke placed down the cup and shut her eyes, concentrating on the feeling inside of her.

‘Lexa.’ Clarke felt her mind whir, she hadn't asked for Lexa’s presence in a while.

When she opened her eyes, the Commander was standing in the clearing. She was dressed in maroon, her hair loose and all signs of paint gone. The rain hit her, but it didn’t impact, and Clarke watched Lexa smile.

‘Clarke.’ She greeted, while Clarke risked a smile.

‘You’ve been gone a while.’ Lexa’s lips tugged into a smirk, before it vanished, and she took a step closer.

‘You know why, Clarke. Your body’s hosting us, and with the coding…’ So, it was what Clarke had feared. The Flame was making her sick, or at the very least, amplifying what Clarke was doing to herself.

‘Can it be fixed?’ Lexa’s resigned look was the answer to that question, Clarke falling silent.

‘The more you push yourself, the worse it will get. It’s getting harder to hold back Sheidheda.’ Clarke had known, on some basic level, that the Flame was a bad idea. The very principle was wrong, and after everything that had happened, it wasn’t surprising that it was beginning to falter.

‘It makes me Commander.’ Clarke stated, the lie tasting foul.

‘You make yourself Commander, Clarke. Look at what you’ve done.’ Clarke followed Lexa’s gesture, looking around the Village. This was her work, and she’d managed to do it.

‘If I take it out… will the sickness stop? Will I keep dying?’ Clarke had slowed the process down, but she knew it was still taking a toll on her body. Lexa, never one to shy from the truth, looked hesitant to tell the truth now. Proof that Clarke’s body was never going to outlive her mind.

‘Let them help you, Clarke.’ She stepped in front of her, close enough that Clarke would have been able to touch her, had this been real. Instead, Clarke did not try. She remembered the City of Light, the moment she had last held Lexa, and found the pain was not as bad as it had once been.

‘I don’t want to lose you.’ Again, the unspoken word to follow that.

‘We’ll meet again.’ Lexa stated firmly, before her gaze looked over Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke followed her gaze, found Bellamy leaning against the door to the Church. He wasn’t making any move to dare the rain, simply stood and watched her.

‘Enjoy the celebrations, Commander.’ Lexa’s last word, teasing, before she was gone.

Clarke grabbed her drink, moved back under the shelter and up the steps to Bellamy’s side. She didn’t dare reach for him, not when her clothes were wet, but she did offer a smile.

‘Everything okay?’ He knew she’d been talking to Lexa. Or, more accurately, the chip in her head that was currently hosting a war.

‘Sure. Just checking that Lexa thought it was a good idea to have all of Wonkru celebrating.’ She wasn’t sure when she began to trust Bellamy more than she trusted herself, but it was nice. As was the way he stole her drink, raising it to his lips and taking a long drink, before ruffling her hair. Rain droplets splashed onto his shirt, but he didn’t seem to be hurt by it, nor was the rain particularly bad today.

‘Have faith, Clarke. We’ve got this.’ She nodded, leaning into his side and stealing her drink back. Steadily, the rain began to ease off, and Clarke watched as Wonkru began to stir.

Only once Bellamy had left for breakfast had she realised he had used the collective term.


	26. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild warnings this chapter for attempted sexual assault, it comes near the end.

It was… loud. The paperchains and foliage that had hosted as decoration was everywhere, lining each of the buildings that Clarke could see. The fires had been lit, torches to keep the place illuminated, with different meats roasting over them. Wonkru had arrived in mass, people dressed in loose clothing and minimal weapons, all because of one celebration.

What she hadn't expected, was the band. The Grounders seemed fascinated by the music that Raven had managed to amplify across to the Village, the sounds from the instruments filling the space. Those from the Canadance bunker had dressed in nice clothing, a couple of dresses and shirts that made her think this was almost perfect.

‘Clarke.’ Josh smiled at her, dressed in jeans and a blue shirt. By his side, Liam gave a friendly grin, offering out a drink that was probably alcoholic. Brell was currently on protect-Commander duty, eyed up the glass warily as Clark accepted.

One sip was enough to confirm it was strong, Clarke swallowing down the burn and laughing.

‘I’ve not tasted something like that in years.’ Octavia was in the clearing below, trying to convince Raven to dance with her. It was quite the scene to watch, the mechanic desperately trying to protest as she was dragged out.

‘That’s one thing we’ve got plenty of.’ Liam joked. Josh glanced over her shoulder, before looking back at her.

‘We’ll leave you to it. Enjoy the party!’ She echoed the sentiment, not needing to turn to know that Bellamy was approaching. Still, it didn’t hurt to look to her side to eye up his current clothing. Smart, dark jeans and a shirt that was tight enough to hug to him.

‘Look at that, you’ve cleaned up nicely.’ Clarke’s teasing made Bellamy laugh, which was basically her main mission. He did look nice, hair curly and soft-looking, almost tempting enough to ruffle.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself, Princess.’ Octavia’s clothing, because Clarke had very little that would fit her. The jeans felt odd against her skin, but the blouse was nice. Clarke wondered where Octavia had found it, then figured it was probably best not to ask.

‘Alcohol?’ He asked, sniffing the cup that he’d just stolen from her hand.

‘Strong.’ She replied, then watched as he took a long swig from it.

‘Or you’re just a lightweight.’ The easy banter between them was nice, Clarke could almost forget everything else that had happened between them.

She turned back to Wonkru, let her gaze fall to Eleanor, who was standing by one of the fires. A couple of people had gathered around her, the ones that Clarke had already picked up on. The ones that didn’t want to fall into line, didn’t want to obey her rules for the different jobs. No more than twenty in total, but that was still a threat.

Eleanor looked across to her, caught her gaze, and slowly raised her drink.

Clarke would have to keep an eye on her.

**

Murphy finally managed to convince Emori that he was far too breathless to dance, stumbled away from the group and snatched Bellamy’s drink from his hand. He looked annoyed, but didn’t prevent Murphy from draining the entire thing, slamming the empty cup down.

‘You look like hell.’ Bellamy’s words were, surprisingly, probably an understatement. He felt like he’d been dancing for hours, it was amazing what a couple of drinks could do to his normally-stubborn attitude. Plus, Emori had dressed up tonight.

He looked back to her now, dancing with Octavia and Raven, while Harper was teaching Echo. The once-Assassin had obviously had one too many drinks, there was no way she’d be dancing otherwise.

‘You look miserable.’ Murphy replied, which usually could only mean a couple of things. It didn’t take him long to deduce, Clarke was standing over by Brell, the two of them laughing as they continued to drink. He’d never seen the Princess drunk, but by the flushed skin and slightly-wide eyes, she was well on her way.

‘Just go and ask her to dance.’ He wasn’t sure when he became a therapist for Bellamy and Clarke, it didn’t fit his usual repertoire of being the bad guy. Maybe Emori was right, he was beginning to care about the two idiots.

‘She wouldn’t want to.’ Bellamy argued, before they were joined by Clarke’s new-found friend.

Joshua, if Murphy had bothered to listen correctly, and his boyfriend Liam. If Clarke trusted them, then Murphy figured they couldn’t be that bad. Plus, anyone that was willing to openly break the rules that their family had laid down, had to be worth his time.

‘Another drink?’ Joshua offered, Murphy offering out both his and Bellamy’s empty cups.

‘What’s up?’ Liam asked, nodding to Bellamy.

‘He’s miserable because he thinks Clarke won’t dance with him.’ Another thing that proved quite how far Bellamy had fallen, the fact he didn’t even get annoyed with Murphy’s sentence. He just continued to pine from a distance.

‘Just ask.’ Joshua offered, while Bellamy grumbled something about her being stubborn.

‘Watch and learn, my friend.’ Liam took off a moment later, Murphy watching in a mixture of surprise and impressed as he moved to Clarke’s side. Whatever he said, it had Brell laughing, Clarke ducking her head before accepting the hand he’d offered out.

‘See. It wasn’t hard.’ Murphy teased, while Bellamy hit him in the arm.

**

‘Can I ask…’

‘You’re going to anyway.’ She pointed out, snorting with laughter when Liam placed a hand over his heart like he’d been offended. Clarke had been surprised by him asking her to dance, but hadn't denied the chance to join in the fun. Nobody had asked her yet, probably because she was the Commander, after all.

‘The headaches?’ She’d been expecting the question. The music picked up a bit, Clarke laughing when Liam span her round. To her side, she could see Echo and Emori had partnered up, while Harper and Monty began to dance.

‘Come and go. I’m handling it.’ Once she’d figured out what to do about the chip, it might get easier.

‘What about you? Had any trouble?’ She cut in, before he could continue the questioning. Liam glanced across to the other members of the Canadance people, the ones that didn’t approve of his relationship.

‘No, just some stares.’ Good. She’d have cut tongues if they’d been hostile.

‘I don’t think they’d dare, not with…’ He nodded across to where Miller and Jackson were dancing, and Clarke’s smile grew.

Happiness. Peace. All things she’d been striving to achieve, offered out in front of her so freely.

‘If anyone says anything…’ She warned, while Liam just laughed. He stepped back from her, not that they’d been touching anyway, and Clarke followed where his head had turned.

Bellamy came across, offering a small smile when he reached her.

‘Mind if I steal?’ Liam laughed, shook his head and stepped back, while Clarke just watched.

The song changed quite suddenly, from the upbeat song that had all of Wonkru bouncing around, to a smoother, slower tune. A singer accompanied it, and Clarke made a note to find out the woman’s name.

**

Bellamy thanked Murphy internally for the change in song, watched as people around began to partner up.

‘May I?’ He offered out his hand to Clarke, watched the way her smile spread.

‘Of course.’ Her skin was warm against his, and he quickly stepped forward, let a hand settle on her waist. She was more hesitant, before her arms came to rest around his neck, fingers loosely linked at the back.

‘Everyone seems happy.’ She remarked, head turning to look out across the people. Bellamy had to agree, he’d never seen Wonkru get along this well for so long. His sister was dancing with Penn, the leader of Trikru, while Murphy had returned to Emori’s side. Echo was by Brell’s side, the two chatting away in hushed tones, while Harper and Monty danced by their side.

His eyes met Abby’s, faltering slightly when he saw the protective stare he was levelled with. She was standing to one side, Kane by her side, the two of them talking. Kane’s gaze was also in their direction, but he just smiled, before looking back to Abby.

‘They do. Thanks to you.’ He added, his attention back on Clarke. She’d gone back to blue streaks in her hair, rather than red, and it made something in him happy. Plus, the colour suited her.

‘Thanks to us.’ She corrected, while he dared to let his hand settle at the small of her back.

‘You know, this might just work.’ Clarke looked proud as she spoke, and Bellamy nodded. Her eyes met his, full of determination and the spark of mischief that he remembered from the Clarke before Mount Weather, before she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

‘It will.’ He replied, studying the blush that darkened her cheeks, before she averted her gaze. Her head came to rest lightly on his chest, just enough contact that she’d be able to hear his racing heart.

Perfect.

**

Clarke stumbled slightly, her feet not obeying her head, giggled when Raven drained the rest of her drink.

‘Another!’ Octavia squealed, Clarke snorting with laughter at her enthusiasm. This time, she stumbled the other way, managed to run into Murphy.

‘You’ve had too much, Princess.’ He observed, but he looked amused. Clarke scoffed, tried to point out that she was more than capable of handling her alcohol, but all that came out was a garbled sound that resembled a chicken. She turned back to Octavia, who was sneakily trying to fill up Raven’s mug, while the mechanic was distracted by talking to Monty.

The party had dwindled, it was now very much an adults’ party. Drinking, slightly obscene dancing going on from some of the members of the Village, and she kept her attention away from that.

She made it to the logs around the fire, slumped down by Octavia’s side and snatched the last of the alcohol.

‘Rude.’ Octavia said with a pout, but she didn’t seem to angry.

_‘Clarke.’_

She drained the drink, spotted Bellamy in discussion with Efana. The Warrior had to be thirsty, unable to drink the alcohol in circulation, and Clarke wondered if she should get her some water.

That thought was gone the moment the sound of something throwing up filled her ears. Harper was the first to Monty’s side, Raven quickly joining, the two of them soothing the man as he spilled his guts of the alcohol.

_‘Clarke, pay attention.’_

‘This was a good night.’ Octavia said, although each word slurred into the next. Clarke giggled, she sounded funny. The two of them had never really been close friends, but now something seemed to have shifted. Octavia bounced to her feet, turning to offer her hand to Clarke.

‘C’mon, dance with me!’ Clarke laughed, being pulled to her feet and narrowly avoided going straight past Octavia with the force the woman put into dragging her up. Arms wrapped around her, closing her in, but the alcohol in her brain kept her from panicking too much about it.

‘Yanno, I’m happy for you.’ Octavia murmured, before her head slumped to Clarke’s shoulder.

It didn’t take long for Octavia to run out of energy. Clarke watched her run around, arms flailing and legs kicking out, before she eventually slumped. It was Echo that caught her, before stating that she’d help the girl get back to her bed.

_‘Clarke!’_

Finally, she obeyed. She rose her head, studying her surroundings as she did so. Two of the newcomers stood on the edge of the clearing, heads close together in discussion. She watched them for a moment, the secretive looks exchanged, before one of them slipped away. The second waited, before heading to the infirmary.

‘Clarke?’ It was Raven, but she just shrugged.

‘Be back in a minute.’

**

‘What d’you need that for?’ The man spun, the vial in his hands dropping to the floor and shattering. An anaesthetic, not something she’d let them walk in and take. The man halted, apparently sizing her up. She couldn’t look much of a threat, not when she was sure she was wobbling from side to side.

‘Trying to keep someone quiet?’ She added, taking a step closer. It was a mistake, her legs buckled, and she found herself falling quite quickly to the floor.

Combined with a hand that grabbed her hair, holding her down while something pricked into the back of her neck, Clarke decided that she really shouldn’t have got that drunk.

**

When she next became aware of her body, it was because of the voice that kept ringing over and over.

_‘Get up. Fight. Kill.’_

Four words, on repeat as she forced her eyes open. She was in a room, low candlelight illuminating the space. A chair, she was slumped over in it, with the view of the bed in front. The same two men, and a woman that she recognised to be from the Desert Clan. One of Brell’s people, definitely unconscious, lying on top of the sheets as hands slowly reached for her.

‘Why did you bring her? They’ll be looking.’ The first one snapped, while Clarke sized them up. Her body was coming back around, fingers twitching as she regained control. Clarke turned her attention back to the woman, anger bubbling up in her gut.

‘They won’t find her. Can have a go with her, after.’ She didn’t have a weapon. Her Pride were out hunting, and Clarke hadn't gone to the party armed. Looking around the room for a weapon that would work, she quickly opted for her hands.

‘Shh, that’s it sweetheart.’ The second man left the bed, moving across to Clarke, who quickly shut her eyes. Hands came for her shirt, but she held still. After all, she didn’t quite have full control yet, and she’d need it to face down two men.

The fabric ripped, fingers prodding over her skin in a way that made her sick.

She opened her eyes, found his face inches from hers. His attention was on her chest, not on the fact she was awake, which gave her the chance.

Headbutting hurt. The crunching sound was accompanied by a rush of blood, but Clarke wasn’t done. She stood up, regretting it when her body wobbled and threatened to fall, but adrenaline was one hell of a drug.

Her hand closed around his arm, twisting and shoving the man down to the ground, while pulling back on the limb. Something popped, a scream breaking from his lips. Clarke turned to the first man, who had left his prize on the bed, instead lunging for her. She ducked the first blow, brought her knee up into his groin. Unfortunately, his weight hit her, and they both went down to the ground.

Her head hit the ground, the ringing in her ears almost too nauseating. Clarke groaned, found a hand closing over her chest, the other moving for her neck.

She reached for his cheek, raked nails down his skin and felt the skin break. He was gone in a heartbeat, grabbing his friend and trying to run for the door.

Clarke stood up, went to the bed and tried to scoop up the woman. It wasn’t easy, but she couldn’t leave her.

**

A scream rang out, and Bellamy halted in his discussion with Kane. Brell reached for a weapon, as did many of the Grounders left, before a man appeared.

He was bleeding from a scratch to his cheek, blood dripping down his shirt. A second man was slumped over him, one arm at an odd angle, and a nose that was definitely broken. Both of them from the new nation, but it didn’t mean Bellamy wouldn’t help them.

‘Abby!’ Kane called, the Doctor beginning to rush across, when she skidded to a stop.

‘Help us!’ The scratched-cheek man screamed, but Bellamy’s attention wasn’t on him.

It was on Clarke, who was stalking the man with eyes that burned with fury. Her shirt was bloody, ripped open, and there was a girl that was vaguely trying to collect her feet.

‘Eoin, Trevor!’ Two Grounders, Bellamy didn’t know how she knew their names, came rushing to her side. The girl was taken from Clarke, while Brell went running to her side.

Bellamy was quick behind her, reaching her in record time. Her pupils were blown, faint bruises around her throat, and he didn’t want to look any further down.

‘Lock them up.’ She slurred, trying to gesture to the men, before she promptly dropped. Bellamy swore, caught her before she could hit the ground, and was grateful his arms weren’t free.

Otherwise, he’d have killed them himself.

**

The girl’s name was Olive, and she sat in the infirmary bed giving her report to Brell. Two Canadance men had come to ask her some questions about the Clan, and she had answered. Then she reported that the drink she had been consuming made her head spin, and Abby concluded it had been how they’d drugged her.

The next thing she remembered was falling, and being carried away. When she’d woken up, Clarke had been dragging her out of the bed, telling her she had to be strong.

Olive would be fine. She’d been lucky, hadn't fought enough to earn bruises. She was given fresh clothes, and allowed to leave.

Abby refused to leave Clarke’s side. The Commander was still unconscious, the blood having been cleaned off of her and revealing the bruising. It wasn’t just that which made it hard to look at her.

Bellamy knew Clarke was thin. He hadn't known it was this bad, staring at her ribs and the marks of the fire that remained, while Abby’s shaking hands tried to hook her up to a drip. Jackson took over, leaving Abby to slump down into a chair by Clarke’s side.

‘Has she been eating?’ Kane asked, and Bellamy realised the question was aimed at him. He felt the guilt in his stomach double, had to tear his gaze away from her.

‘A little. I had her taking vitamins to try and make up for what she couldn’t keep down.’ Tears fell down Abby’s cheeks, her hand reaching out for Clarke’s. The girl didn’t stir.

‘Go and check that Murphy hasn’t killed them.’ Kane suggested, which was a point Bellamy hadn't considered.

Nor would he stop him if he was.


	27. You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting yesterday!! Extra long chap to make up for it, enjoy!

Her stomach woke her. She fought against whatever was wrapped around her body, opened her mouth to scream but no sound would come out. There was a voice, one that was familiar, but Clarke was too busy staring at the bright lights and the clinical look around her. It was too much like Mount Weather for Clarke’s mind, or her stomach, which drove her to swing her legs from the bed.

She yanked the IV out of her arm, noted the blood that beaded to the surface as she did. Someone was still talking, two voices now, but Clarke hit the floor as her legs gave out and made it to the bin in time to heave.

Her stomach took a couple of times to bring up whatever was in it, mostly alcohol, and she grimaced at the taste. Metallic, hinting at the blood that she was throwing up, and Clarke wished she could hide it.

When she realised she no longer needed to be sick, she rested her head on her forearm, took a deep breath.

‘You with us?’ Murphy. Of all the people, it was the one she didn’t mind hearing, and Clarke looked in his direction. He hadn't attempted to reach for her, had sent Jackson away, probably to fetch her Mom or Bellamy.

‘I’m here.’ She grumbled, accepting the glass of water he offered out. She rinsed her mouth out, gurgled and then spat the remaining into the bin. The bin that Murphy was staring at, before looking to her mouth.

‘You’ve got blood on your lips.’ He provided, and Clarke wiped it sharply.

‘Not a word.’ She pleaded, just as her Mom came running.

Clarke attempted to stand, Murphy pulling her up, before he stepped behind her in time for Abby to sweep her up in a hug. It was too much, the contact overwhelming and Clarke’s mind screaming at her to flee. She didn’t, stayed stock still as she willed her heartrate to stay sensible. When her Mom realised she wasn’t hugging back, she stepped away, studied her up and down.

Right, Clarke wasn’t wearing a shirt.

‘Clarke, you scared us so much.’ She had tears in her eyes, and it hurt more than the fact that she was dying. Clarke had never wanted to hurt them, had just wanted to make sure that they were safe. It turned out that staying in this Valley just prolonged her hurt, all of them hurting.

She turned at the sound of a tap running, looked over to find that Murphy was washing out the bin.

Hiding the blood.

‘I’m fine, Mom, but the girl…’

‘Olive. She’s fine, a little shaken up, but Penn’s with her. He and Brell are currently…’ Her Mom trailed off, keeping something from her that Clarke didn’t appreciate. She looked to Murphy for answers, knowing he wouldn’t deny her.

‘Some of Canadance are demanding they be released.’ Clarke swallowed, then winced, rose a hand to her throat. The skin had to be bruised, as was her stomach and chest.

‘I’ll go and help them.’ Her Mom went to argue, but she held her tongue, especially when Murphy handed her a shirt. It wasn’t hers, looked to a guy’s shirt. She eyed him up curiously, the man shrugging.

‘I grabbed one from the closest room, it happened to be Bellamy’s.’ Fair enough, she slipped it over her head and tucked it into the trousers that belonged to Octavia.

Dressed in the Blake siblings’ clothes, Clarke went to sort out Wonkru.

**

‘He attacked one of us!’ Penn shouted, but Eleanor wasn’t listening. Bellamy hated her, and the people she’d managed to recruit to her side. Joshua was trying to calm them down, to keep this peaceful, but it was gathering quite the crowd. Trikru were demanding blood, wanting to access the cells that Clarke had ordered the two be put in, while the Canadance Councillors were trying to argue for their freedom.

‘We’d all had a little to drink…’ That was Erik, Joshua’s father, and Bellamy was going to punch him if he dared try to blame Clarke for this. Watching her lying on that bed, nearly the colour of the sheets…

‘You obey the Commander. And while she isn’t here, you obey me.’ Brell snapped, reaching for her sword. She wasn’t quite a leader, didn’t inspire the loyalty of Wonkru like Clarke could, but it did work. Silence, the Councillors looking pretty angry.

‘William and Charlie didn’t mean harm. Plus, according to witnesses, they’re injured. Why aren’t they being treated?’ Bellamy watched Octavia tense up, ready to attack, just as the others were. Each of them angry enough to start a war, even Kane, but it wasn’t needed.

‘Because the rules of Wonkru state that the Clan of the victim decide the punishment.’ Head turned, Clarke walking through as Wonkru parted for her. Eleanor’s smile vanished, and the Canadance Nation took a step back as she reached the front.

‘For the crimes against Olive kom Trikru, I believe a reasonable punishment would be imprisonment for a year, and reparations to Olive’s family. The closest kin to William and Charlie will loose ten percent of their earnings, to be paid to Olive, for the next three months.’ It should have been blood. Bellamy wasn’t a fool, he knew what the payment was. As did Joshua, they’d explained that most of Trikru would want them executed. It just wasn’t acceptable here, especially not with the added attack against the Commander.

‘Trikru finds the punishment acceptable, Commander.’ Penn bowed his head to her, and Clarke looked to Joshua. The two men were in his Clan, after all.

‘Yujleda accepts the punishment.’ That caused a murmur amongst his people, but Clarke simply nodded.

‘Have the prisoners escorted to the medical wing to be treated, although no pain medication should be offered. Visitors will be allowed from next week.’ Clarke then turned, moving up towards the Church, while Bellamy noted that the shirt she was wearing was one of his.

**

Clarke knew they were following, waited until the doors were shut before turning to them. Octavia still looked angry, Raven worried, and the others had mixed expressions. Kane, surprisingly, looked the angriest. His expression softened when it reached her, though, so she smiled up at him. Mom and Murphy had followed, which meant the whole group were here.

‘Clarke.’ Bellamy came walking in her direction, and Clarke met him halfway. Hugging him felt normal, now, wrapping her arms around his waist and relaxing into his touch. She pulled back shortly after, still not quite used to the feeling that came with it.

‘Was that okay? A good verdict?’ She asked, stepping back but keeping close enough for her arm to rest against Bellamy’s side.

‘Unseen before in Wonkru.’ Brell remarked, then shrugged.

‘But appropriate. Apart from the fact that word spread that you were hurt, so Wonkru might have expected more.’ Clarke frowned, knowing that might be an issue. But how to solve it?

‘I have an idea.’ She began, looking up to the group.

‘That means we’re not going to like it.’ Bellamy grumbled, staring down at her with a fond smile. She rolled her eyes, nudged his shoulder in annoyance.

‘It’ll be fine. Have faith.’

**

Clarke had never seen two men look so confused in all her life. The confusion faded, replaced with determination, and the Commander was patient. Word of the agreement had spread, Wonkru coming out to cheer for their Commander, while the Canadance Nation watched curiously. She knew that some would be hoping they won, but that was not the point of the fight.

It was simple. If William or Charlie could beat her at combat, she’d renounce their sentence. It showed strength, allowing them to pick up a blade in the first place. It also served to make them look like idiots.

Her friends hadn't been sure. Brell had approved, as had Echo. The issue was that Abby then pointed out Clarke was far too frail to be fighting, which had brought silence to the group.

The thing they didn’t understand, was that Clarke had survived worse. She’d burnt almost to death, had lived in Hell for five years, so this was nothing.

Charlie opted for a sword that would be far too heavy. William went for an axe, weighing it up before turning to Clarke. They looked ridiculous, the both of them, and Clarke fought the smile that threatened to break out.

‘I took martial arts since a baby.’ William bragged, Clarke gesturing for them to come closer. She hadn't picked a weapon, planned on taking Charlie’s when he got close enough to be disarmed.

They didn’t do very well. No coordination, just a blind attack of rage. Clarke sidestepped the axe, brought her knee up while gripping the handle and dealt a blow to his stomach. Then she reached for his shoulder, pulled his bodyweight over hers and sent him back into the mud, a foot pressing to his wrist so he dropped the axe.

She picked it up, looking to Charlie. He swung the sword fast, but with only one hand, so it hit the axe and the impact had him reflexively dropping his sword.

From there, it was a solid kick to the chest, combined with the handle of the axe hitting him in the gut, and he was down as well.

Neither of them got up, and Clarke peered down into the dirt at both of them.

‘You’ll serve your sentences.’ She stated, and Wonkru applauded. Even the Canadance Nation looked impressed, Joshua clapping as she placed back the weapons.

Clarke scanned the crowds, found the girl that she had saved last night. Olive, who could be no older than eighteen, looking at her with a bright smile. Clarke nodded to her, the girl returned the gesture, and she could relax.

Balance restored, for now.

**

She’d been expecting this moment. Clarke shut the door behind her, took a moment to compose herself, then turned to face Murphy. He was seated on her throne, lazily chewing on an apple that she suspected he’d nicked from the gathering this morning.

‘Murphy.’ She greeted, knowing this couldn’t be avoided. He took another bite, studying her, then smiled.

‘Clarke. What’ve we said about secrets.’ Even if his tone was light, the weight behind the words wasn’t. She moved to the table, looked down to the mess of papers and maps that were spread out. All her work, all her ideas, written down beneath her.

‘It’s nothing to worry about.’ She lied, knowing it wasn’t convincing. Murphy scoffed, finished the apple and then waited for her to tell the truth. Clarke wasn’t even sure what the truth was anymore, swallowed down her guilt and keeping her gaze on the table. That way, she could almost pretend that Murphy was the same as a radio.

‘I’m sick. And, whatever it is, it’s being sped up by the chip breaking down in the back of my head.’ There. She’d admitted to most of the problem, and it hung in the air between them as Murphy took in what she’d told him. The silence stretched, but she didn’t dare raise her head.

‘Is it curable?’

‘We have no idea how the chip actually…’

‘Your illness. Not the chip.’ He knew. She felt tired in that moment, aching right down to the bones, and looked up at him.

Murphy’s face betrayed no emotion, but his fingers had tightened around the arms of the throne.

‘I don’t think so. I… It’s me.’ His gaze scanned over her, but he didn’t speak.

Clarke had seen cases like this on the Ark. Murphy must have heard about them as well, people that were floated when it got too bad. That, or locked up, because they couldn’t do anything for them. Mental illness, something common when they were up in space, miles from the planet they belonged on.

‘The symptoms?’ Murphy wasn’t a Doctor. But he also had a basic understanding, maybe even could relate on a certain level.

‘Headaches. Nosebleeds. Vomiting blood, dizzy spells, unable to keep food down. I… I’m tired. Constantly.’ Not something a Commander should ever admit to, especially not to somebody else. Murphy nodded his head slowly, like he was trying to process everything she had just told him.

‘Were you going to tell us?’ Us. Anyone. Clarke laughed weakly, slumping back into one of the chairs and rubbing her temple.

‘No. What’s the point? Once Wonkru is at peace, my job’s done.’ Murphy stood up sharply, eyes filled with anger and lips drawn into a snarl, but he didn’t approach.

‘You’re not just our Commander, Clarke! You’re out friend. My friend.’ She hated it. Hated everything about this situation, that he was hurting because of her. Clarke ignored the tears in her eyes, looked up to Murphy slowly.

‘Do you know how hard it is, to know you’ll be the death of your own people? That all your friends and family will suffer, because of something you can’t change?’ Fingers ran through her hair as she choked on a laugh, let the tears begin to spill.

‘Clarke…’ Murphy’s anger was gone, replaced with another unreadable expression that she couldn’t place.

‘I don’t want sympathy, or pity. God knows I don’t deserve it. I just… I wanted to enjoy what I had left. Was that so wrong?’ Somewhere along the line of her words, she’d stood up, fingers balling up into fists as she snapped the words at him.

Murphy moved to her side, and Clarke cried. Arms wrapped around her, awkward but aiming to comfort, and she let herself rest against him.

‘I’m going to go and get Gaia. And Indra. And those of Skaikru that can be trusted. The chip we can talk about, the rest is one you to explain.’ Clarke nodded, stepped back and wiped her eyes quickly.

**

Bellamy wondered what the meeting was about, but he didn’t question it. The room was filled with his friends, but none of the Grounders. Or, none of the ones that might have different loyalties. Clarke was seated on the steps to her throne, Murphy seated on it, and he wondered what had happened between the two of them. It was an odd friendship, filled with either hating or loving the other, and it was quite amusing to watch.

‘Great job, Bellamy, being late.’ Murphy teased, Bellamy rolling his eyes and taking a seat. He noted that Indra and Gaia were present, as was Abby, having been drawn away from the infirmary. He presumed Jackson was left to take over.

‘What’s up?’ Octavia asked, glancing to Clarke. Something had happened, her eyes were red-rimmed, staring at the floor like it was the most fascinating thing to exist.

‘The chip’s breaking down.’ Murphy drawled, eyes flicking to Clarke. Gaia gasped, rushing across to Clarke’s side and crouching down.

‘Breaking?’ Abby snapped, looking at her daughter with fear. Bellamy wanted to move to her, but Gaia was already placing a hand on her shoulder, Clarke surprisingly leaning into it.

‘Tell them.’ Murphy prompted, Clarke sighing in defeat.

‘Lexa told me the coding’s coming apart. That the other Commanders are struggling to keep Sheidheda locked up.’

It had a couple of responses. From the Grounders, a look of terror that he hadn't been expecting, especially not from Echo or Indra. From Gaia, her hands trembled, staring at Clarke in horror.

‘Sheidheda? Can… can you hear him?’ Clarke startled, like she hadn't expected the question, before shaking her head.

‘Just Lexa. And occasionally Bekka.’

‘Then we take it out.’ Abby snapped, not leaving any room for argument. Bellamy expected Gaia or Indra to argue, but strangely, they stayed quiet.

‘How bad is it?’ Gaia asked, fingers still on Clarke’s shoulder. She shrugged, peering up.

‘Not unmanageable, at the moment.’

‘Is there a way of repairing it?’ Echo asked, glancing across to Raven. The mechanic hesitated, just long enough to tell Bellamy it might be a possibility.

‘If we could connect it up, use Clarke as a host…’

‘No.’ Abby broke it, but Raven continued,

‘Then theoretically, yes. I could repair any faults in the coding. Maybe even separate Sheidheda from the other Commanders.’

He didn’t like the word host. He didn’t like the way Clarke looked so tired, like she hadn't slept in weeks. He didn’t like the word theoretically, which implied that it could all go wrong.

‘Why does she even need the damned chip?’ Octavia broke in, looking at Clarke with worry.

‘It’s a tradition that makes Wonkru easier to unite. Plus, with the spirit of the old Commanders…’

‘What’s it doing to you?’ Monty cut in, Clarke glancing across to him, before it returned to her clasped hands.

‘Headaches, mostly. A little sickness.’

Everyone was watching Clarke when she answered that question. Everyone, apart from Bellamy, who looked to Murphy. He was looking right back, and it only took a fraction of a moment for him to know that Clarke wasn’t telling the whole truth. That, whatever had changed between her and Murphy, it was to do with this.

‘Raven, if you could work on preparing the equipment it would take to repair the chip, then we have some time to think. If it could work, we should try it.’ Clarke stated, staring at her Mom, who eventually nodded her head.

**

‘Hey.’ Clarke mumbled, sitting up when she noticed that Bellamy was in the door. He looked tired, but oddly clean, which implied he’d just gone for a shower.

‘Finished Guard duty?’ He had been handling the new prison inmates, which might explain why his knuckles were slightly red. Bellamy nodded, stepping into her room and shutting the door. It had settled into a routine, Bellamy arriving at her room to sleep, and she wasn’t sure why it made her so… happy.

Tonight, however, Clarke’s nest was unusually empty. The Pride were out on a Hunt, Clarke had sent them off earlier, mostly because she couldn’t bare Osleya’s obvious flirtation towards Graun.

‘Yeah. Miller’s taken over, along with one of Trikru.’ He stripped off his jacket, then his shirt, while Clarke shuffled across to the shelves in the corner to reach for her first aid kit. When Bellamy crawled under the blankets, trousers folded over the chair in her room, he rolled his eyes.

‘C’mon, it’s not that bad.’

‘Then it won’t take long.’ She shot back, taking his hand in hers and beginning to swab at the broken skin. He was right, it wasn’t that bad, no more than a little scraped skin. Still, it was nice to have such a simple moment between them, so she stretched it out for as long as she could, before releasing her hold.

‘You don’t have to defend my honour.’ Clarke teased, putting the kit away. Bellamy snorted, stealing her favourite pillow and propping himself up on it, blankets half covering his chest. She settled in her normal spot, with an Osleya-sized gap between them.

‘Trust me, you proved that earlier by being a badass.’ It was the way he said it that made her laugh. Then the way he pouted, annoyed that she was laughing at him, that made it harder to stop.

It got to the point where Bellamy was trying to hide his own amusement, because Clarke was clutching at her stomach as tears leaked from her eyes, desperately trying to gasp in air as she laughed.

‘Y-your face!’ That started a whole new round of giggles, Clarke eventually just dissolving into hiccupped sniggers as she tried to contain herself.

‘I’m glad you find me so amusing.’ Bellamy remarked, but his smile was wider than she’d seen in a while. In fact, he looked positively ecstatic, eyes sparkling with the mischief that she’d missed.

‘You’re the one that looked all mystical when you talked about me being a badass.’ She managed to get out, in between some hiccups and an occasional gasp for air. Bellamy rolled his eyes, snatched at the blankets she was clutching at in an attempt to regain some normality.

‘Oi!’ She protested, and it was Bellamy’s turn to laugh.

‘Should have just taken the compliment.’ She kicked out, knowing it was childish, watching Bellamy’s shock when she reached for her blankets and stole them back. For a moment, she knew he was going to let it rest, but Clarke was enjoying the carefree attitude between them.

So, she stuck her tongue out.

Bellamy’s grin turned feral, and Clarke quickly regretted her decision.

‘Oh, Princess, you’ve done it now.’ She squealed as hands reached back for the fabric, before laughing when his hands skirted over her sides. It was an instinct, she happened to be quite ticklish, not that she advertised the fact. Still, the moment the sound escaped, Bellamy halted. His head cocked to the side, curly hair flopping to the side in the most adorable way.

‘Are you… ticklish?’ Clarke tried to scramble back, could already see where this was going to go, but Bellamy was quicker. Hands reached for her side, and Clarke was gone, bursting into yet another fit of giggles.

‘Ok, okay, mercy! Oh God, mercy!’ She panted out, laughing hard enough that her eyes were crinkling up and she had a stitch. Bellamy dropped back down by her side, only this time, there wasn’t a gap between them.

‘Kept that quiet.’ He joked, and Clarke looked across at him.

‘Well, not many people decide to tickle me!’ She protested, trying to do her best to look menacing, only for him to smirk.

‘You look cute when your angry, your nose scrunches up.’ Clarke was fully ready to protest, before realising that it had been a compliment. Bellamy didn’t seem to notice what he had said, was already moving chatter on to the plan to repair the chip, and to the prison duty.

Cute.

Did Bellamy really think that? Clarke wondered why it bothered her so much, it wasn’t like he hadn't complimented her before. By the time she tuned back into the conversation, Bellamy had somehow managed to get onto the topic of Kane’s oxygen classes with the children.

She settled down into the blankets, wrapped herself up and turned onto her side so she could watch his expression as he spoke. She’d never really paid so much attention, but Bellamy was an expressive talker. When he talked about the children of Wonkru, he looked proud. When he spoke of their friends, he looked proud. A fond annoyance when Murphy came up, or a hint of fear when Clarke brought up her Mom, which she thought was funny.

What was so scary about her Mom? Was it because she was a Doctor?

‘Anyway, I guess we should be getting to sleep. Don’t you have some weird fighting thing tomorrow?’ Bellamy looked across briefly, head still resting on his arm, which was wrapped around the pillow Clarke fully intended to steal once he was asleep.

‘Training? Yeah, hand-to-hand with Joshua, said he wanted to learn.’ She was more than happy to teach him, although Bellamy frowned.

‘He could just learn how to shoot a gun.’ Clarke snorted, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

‘Just because you know I’d win in a fight.’

‘You so wouldn’t.’ She wasn’t sure where this childish fighting had come from, but it was a refreshing change from having to be the Commander.

‘Alright. A wager, then.’ She dared, knowing Bellamy’s fragile masculinity would not allow for him to back down.

‘If I win, you’ve got to restock the smoking house in one day. By yourself.’ It would be funny, because she knew Bellamy couldn’t fish to save his life. Still, he was grinning.

‘Deal. And if I win…’ He paused, looking thoughtful, before looking around the room. He focused on one of her sketches, of her Pride, and then back to her.

‘If I win, I want a drawing.’ Not what she’d been expecting, Clarke titling her head to the side.

‘Of what?’

‘You.’ She froze, confused, but Bellamy just raised an eyebrow.

‘You’re never in the sketches you do. So, unless you’re afraid of losing…’ She quickly stuck her hand out, even if it was an awkward angle for them to shake on it, before Bellamy rolled across to blow out the oil lamp.

It left Clarke in the darkness, wondering why Bellamy would ever want a sketch of her.


	28. Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sparring match, followed by Clarke teaching the younger children their history.

A lot of people had turned up to see this fight. Clarke had finished teaching Joshua for the day, and had turned to find that most of her friends had come to see her fight Bellamy. Her Pride were lazing about in the sun, enjoying the day in the forest, overlooking most of the Valley. She’d spent most of the day wondering why she’d made this wager, she knew Bellamy was strong. Plus, she didn’t actually know if she had the strength to fight today.

Despite waking up after a full-night’s sleep, Clarke had been out most of the day, which was what she blamed the exhaustion on. That, and the fact the bruises around her neck and chest still hadn't healed, turning to a nasty blue-black colour that she despised. It was just proof of what had happened, of what she’d been too weak to stop in that moment. Alcohol was not a good idea, she decided.

Osleya bounded across to Bellamy, who was standing by Kane and Octavia. He greeted her with enthusiasm, stroked between her ears and allowed her to run between his legs, while Clarke stared.

‘Traitor.’ She stated, smiling, watching as Osleya came back to her side to apologise. She chuckled, knowing that the Cub was fond of Bellamy, and that made her feel slightly better. If something happened to her, at least her Pride would continue to protect Wonkru like she wanted them to.

‘I brought witnesses.’ Bellamy cheerfully announced, gesturing to the group. Clarke rolled her eyes, ignoring Josh’s snickering from behind her. They’d talked about the wager earlier, although Clarke missed out the part where Bellamy had asked for a sketch of her. She wasn’t quite sure why she kept it a secret, there was no need to.

‘So they can see you lose?’ She teased, Bellamy grinning as she shrugged off his jacket and placed it down over a nearby rock. Bellamy was better with weapons, but this was hand-to-hand, and Clarke had focused on learning how to hold her own for a while now.

‘Big words, Princess.’ Clarke sized him up as he came wandering across, took note of how long his stride was, of the way he held himself. Most of these things she’d studied before, but this was different, she actually wanted to win this wager.

If only to watch him struggle to catch fish.

‘Then prove it.’ Clarke simply stated, and the fight began.

**

He fought like Octavia. With strong movements, swift and agile, which would hurt if Clarke let them hit. She allowed herself to play defensive, to block blows and move out of the way of his legs, watching how he favoured his right side. For every blow he threw, she was taking a half-step to take the impact, while somehow also getting distracted by the look of concentration on his face. Bellamy really was going for it, and somehow, that made her stomach twist in an odd way. All this energy, just for one sketch?

No, it had to be for the honour of fighting. Clarke grimaced as her shoulder was hit, finally decided that waiting for Bellamy to tire was a bad idea. He had more energy than she did, stamina that could long outlast hers, so she had to make this quick.

Her first attack was a punch, to distract him from the leg that crept out to his waist. He startled, probably not used to fighting a female opponent, so Clarke took the opportunity to wrap herself around him, driving her elbows down into his shoulders. The momentary falter was enough for Clarke to bring them down to the ground, attempting to move for his neck. Had it worked, her thighs would have locked around, and he would probably have tapped out.

But Bellamy predicted the move, gripped her thigh and spun her faster than she could imagine, over his bodyweight and into the dirt. Her fingers gripped the ground for balance, kicking up with her shoulder and back onto her feet, before closing in on Bellamy’s left-hand side. Wrapping her hands around his arm, she drew him down to her knee, bringing it up to his gut and pulling him over to her.

For the smallest of moments, Clarke forgot that it was Bellamy. The pounding in her head, the ache in her muscles, it felt real. The adrenaline that rushed through her was similar to that of the night of the attack, it could have been one of them that she hurled over her shoulder and into the dirt.

Then she spotted his eyes, his impressed grin as he looked up at her from the ground, and Clarke smiled back. Kept a hold of him tightly, pressed a foot to his neck and dared to raise an eyebrow.

‘Surrender?’ She questioned, and Bellamy paused. He really didn’t have anywhere to go, one of his hands was trapped under him, and the other was currently holding her inner thigh.

Clarke shouldn’t have thought about that, because the moment she did, she felt her stomach twist again. His skin was hot, even through her trousers, and she could feel the way his fingertips pressed into her thigh.

‘Alright, Princess. You win.’ Strangely, it didn’t feel like a victory. In fact, with the smug smile Bellamy had on his face as he drew up, Clarke knew she’d been played. She just didn’t know how.

The others were cheering, most teasing Bellamy or praising Clarke, but he didn’t seem to care. He reached for the back of his shirt, tugged it over his head and then used it to wipe himself down, while Clarke turned to look at her Pride.

Seda was watching her, eyes filled with amusement, and Clarke felt like a child once more. So easily read, and she wasn’t sure how to feel.

‘I’ll catch you later. I’m heading off to the Valley.’ She didn’t wait to see how her words would settle among the group, simply walked across to her Pride and clicked her tongue to Seda, who stretched out in contentment.

**

‘And then?’ Clarke questioned, to which Isla put her hand up first.

‘Lexa of Trikru stood as her representative.’ The girl seemed proud of her answer, and Clarke nodded. They were seated in the Village, Isla propped up against Seda, the other Panthers dotted around the clearing. Isla’s brother, Dilli, was also present. Evan was listening mostly, learning his history and making notes on the points that Clarke told them were important. Other children had gathered to listen, their parents more than happy to let them have a lesson from the Commander herself.

Lexa had done this, but only to the Nightblood children. Because of the fact she was the only one left, Clarke figured that there was no need to carry on the tradition. Whoever followed her, and hopefully it would be Isla, would have normal blood.

‘Which is useful because…’

‘It’s a show of strength!’ One of the children piped up, and Clarke smiled.

‘And of loyalty, to her people.’ Isla would make a good Commander. Clarke knew she would get there, even if someone else filled the gap between her and Isla’s reign. Nobody seemed disappointed with her choice in second, perhaps except the Canadance nation.

‘Correct. When the Commander defeated Prince Roan, what action did she take next?’ A brief pause, most were too young to have remembered the event, but the tales must have spread around the Bunker.

‘She killed the Ice Queen instead!’ Dilli provided, from behind his sister.

‘Why?’ Joshua looked confused, speaking for the first time in a while. It was quite funny, a clearing full of children seated around her, with Joshua and Liam amongst them. She was thankful that he was making an effort to expand his knowledge on their history, had even begun to teach those that would listen about the traditions of Wonkru.

‘So that the Prince would become King. Prince Roan was much more amenable to the coalition.’ Isla stated, spouting the knowledge that Clarke had taught her.

‘He was a good guy?’ Liam looked surprised at this fact, and Clarke chuckled.

‘Roan was a Warrior, and a great Leader. Had he made it to the Bunker… He’d have been a good Commander.’ And a good friend, once they had settled their differences. Both of them willing to do what it took to protect their people.

Clarke shook away the thoughts, glancing to the setting sun. It was time for dinner, and Bellamy would be upset if she missed a meal.

‘Right, that’s all for today!’ Most of the children thanked her, bowing their heads and wandering back to their parents. Isla came to her side, as usual, and Clarke ruffled her hair.

‘You did brilliantly today, Isla.’

‘Thank you, Clarke.’ She bent to kiss the girl’s head, then watched as she ran back with her brother towards their home.

‘Mm, food.’ Liam stated, eyeing up the fires that were being lit and rubbing his belly. Clarke mentally eye-rolled, before walking towards their fire.

**

Bellamy spotted Clarke coming across, the clearing empty of the children that had been learning just moments before, and grinned. She looked better today, the bruises hidden by her jacket and her skin flushed slightly, plus she’d slept soundly last night. Their fight yesterday hadn't been talked about since the event, although he knew that tomorrow was his day of fishing.

‘Budge over.’ He did so willingly, shuffled across to give Clarke room to drop down beside him. Her legs stretched out, arms above her head as she yawned, before looking to where Brell was collecting food. They took it in turns, a rota of sorts, to go and collect dinner from those who made it. He was just glad he hadn't been assigned to the cooking sector, Clarke always teased him about how he burned the food rather than cooked it.

‘How’s she doing?’ Isla, Clarke’s protégé and usually the reason for Clarke’s bright smile, if it wasn’t her Panthers.

‘Brilliantly. She’s going to make a brilliant Clan Leader.’ And an even better Commander, the unsaid words. Once Clarke renounced her title as Commander, there would still be a Conclave to decide who was the next leader. But the one the Commander favoured was usually the victor, so Isla had a good chance.

‘Looking forward to you day of fishing?’ Clarke asked, once Brell had handed out the plates of food. Bellamy took note that her plate had less on it, like Brell had known not to push her too far. Enough for Bellamy to know she would struggle to manage all of it, even if it was mostly greens.

‘I’m great at fishing.’ He lied, just to watch her laugh. Others around the circle sniggered, Octavia breaking out of her conversation with Raven to stare across.

‘You almost stabbed your foot last time.’ His sister’s words had Clarke laughing harder, around a mouthful of whatever greens he didn’t really like the look of.

‘Traitor.’ He grumbled, but was happy to see Octavia back to her usually-playful self. He’d worried that the Bunker would have been hard for her, without them to keep her company.

‘I’ll make sure you don’t stab your foot.’ He looked to Clarke, who was back to poking at the fish she was eating, and smiled.

He’d stab the fish, and he’d make Clarke laugh while doing so. What better way to spend his day?

**

Bellamy mumbled something into the pillow, rolling over and making grabby hands at Osleya, who snuggled closer to him happily. Clarke watched, the low light of the oil lamp revealing the adorable scene. She let her eyes wander, from the duo, to the other Panthers spread out across the room. It was probably early morning, the world around was quite, but in here, Clarke felt safe. Warm, tucked up in blankets with those she trusted most.

She looked back down to the paper, continuing to sketch. She hadn't been able to sleep, had waited till Bellamy started using Osleya as his blanket before climbing out to find her sketchbook. In it, the two sketches she was working on at the moment.

The first was the current scene. It may change every night, but it never failed to amaze her. Bellamy, hidden by black fur and white sheets that stretched over his tanned skin, making Clarke glad that she’d been brought some coloured pencils down from the Ark. Her best form may be charcoal and ink, but she wasn’t bad with pencils.

The second sketch was the one her fingers were working at the moment. Despite Bellamy losing the wager, Clarke wanted to give him a sketch of her regardless. She wasn’t sure why, maybe because he’d asked, or the thought of him wanting something like that made her chest tighter.

If this was what it was like, to have a friend she trusted so completely, then Clarke would never shut him out of her heart again.


	29. Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke have a day to themselves.

Bellamy watched her eyes widen, the confusion that was quickly followed by excitement, and knew Murphy’s suggestion had been a good one. He was unsure why Murphy was helping him, if he was honest, but he was thankful for the help anyway. Clarke looked from the basket, to the spears he’d collected to stab the fish, then to Clarke’s mare that he’d managed to convince back to the Village. It took two apples, a whole lot of pleading, and an attempt to follow Clarke’s clicking sounds that she used to communicate with the animals of the Valley.

‘A picnic?’ She questioned, a smirk gracing her lips, as her fingers traced the edge of the basket. It was early, the sun was only just rising over the Village, but there were people about. Mostly those with early shifts, or people returning from their night-work, but they all smiled to Clarke as they walked past.

‘I can’t have you starving, while I’m attempting to hunt for fish.’ Bellamy replied, even if that was not his motive. Truly, it had been a ploy to make Clarke happy. Her favourite dishes had been included, almost entirely of fruits and vegetables (that Bellamy would reluctantly eat).

‘This doesn’t get you out of fishing.’ She warned, but he could tell her resolve was faltering. She was smiling once more, moved to greet the horse with soft whispers and gentle touches, while Bellamy looked over his shoulder to where Murphy was leaning against the wall of the Church.

A nod of thanks, waiting just long enough to see Murphy’s lip twitch into a smile, before he was gone. Bellamy had no doubt that he had made the suggestion for Clarke’s benefit, and he wondered if it was something to do with the chip that was deteriorating inside her mind. This illness, the one that Clarke was still hiding from him, how bad could it be?

‘C’mon, you’ve got an entire store to fill.’ Clarke teased, having mounted the horse. Bellamy chuckled, gripped the hand she offered out and swung up behind her.

**

Clarke had never laughed harder. Gone were the worries of last night, or the brief panic this morning when she found her nose running black once more. Instead, her attention was solely focused on a very wet Bellamy, with his hair plastered to his face and the spear between his hands.

She had chosen a spot where she knew the fish would be easier to catch, where the stream was shallow enough to seek them out. The rocks provided a good foot-hold for fishing, but Bellamy lacked the patience that came with hunting the creatures. The first time he had lunged, his foot had slipped from the rock and he’d promptly fallen into the water.

It was now the sixth time he had fallen, and he looked no less annoyed when he was soaked to the bone. Clarke had settled against a tree, sketching and occasionally taking the time to watch Bellamy’s frown as he studied the water.

It was peaceful. Even with all the noise he made, Clarke found herself resting back, feeling the weight of her leadership slipping away. It was almost like she was a normal girl, with nothing more to do than laugh at Bellamy’s hateful attempts to stab at the fish.

‘If you think it’s so easy, you try.’ Bellamy stated, once he dragged himself up from the water for the seventh time. Clarke paused, before shutting the sketchbook and wandering across. The spear was offered out, and Clarke shooed him away to set up the picnic, while she moved over the rocks.

The first time she’d come here, she had no weapons but a knife and a gun. Neither suitable for fishing, so she’d scrabbled in the water with her hands to try and catch something. With nothing other than bugs to eat, when Clarke had caught her first fish, she’d cried.

Now, she stood silently, unmoving as she watched the water shimmer around her. Patience was a virtue she’d learned during her five years of Hell, so Clarke had absolute faith in her ability to catch a fish.

By the time she lunged, spearing the fish on the first attempt, Bellamy had sorted out the picnic. She hopped back off her rock, waving the fish towards Bellamy, who looked rather put out by the fact she’d caught something.

‘You cheated.’ He concluded, Clarke not bothering to argue, just because she’d never seen such an amusing expression on his face. Leaving her spear behind, she joined him on the rug, eyeing up the bowl of strawberries he’d brought.

‘Maybe I’m just more skilled.’ A strawberry was offered out, and Clarke bit into it from Bellamy’s fingers rather than taking it. Just like she’d suspected, the strawberry was beautiful, and she quickly snatched the bowl from Bellamy’s lap.

‘After this, you’re teaching me.’ Bellamy’s words did little to deter her from eating the strawberries, nodding and popping another one in her mouth.

**

Once he’d dragged Clarke from her strawberries, they finally returned to the river. Like she’d promised, Clarke taught him. Or, more accurately, laughed for a very long time before coming to help. She stood on the rock beside him, scolding him every time that he moved. Truthfully, he was mostly doing it on purpose, just because Clarke’s hands would come to steady him whenever he tried to move the spear.

Eventually, he spotted the fish that he was determined to catch. It wasn’t that big, but it looked like a reasonable target. Clarke’s fingers tapped his wrist, indicating that she’d seen it too, and Bellamy readied himself. Amusingly, Clarke’s brow furrowed, warning him that he was moving too early.

Fishing was complicated. The creature wasn’t obeying his mental prayer for it to come in his direction, and when it turned to move away from him, he decided to take the chance that he might hit it. He lunged, spear driving through the water. Unfortunately, the movement threw his weight onto his right leg, enough that he went rocking forward. To try and stop himself from landing in the water, he moved back towards Clarke.

Neither of them remained stable for very long, tumbling into the stream in a mess of limbs and hands trying to use the other to stay up. Bellamy went under first, spear still in hand, before he reached out for Clarke.

Sitting up in the stream, he decided that losing that wager was the best thing he ever could have done. Clarke was sitting in the stream, hair a mess and her clothes soaked, but her smile was stretched across her face.

‘You’re an idiot.’ She told him plainly, with eyes that shone with amusement. Bellamy lifted the spear from the water, showing off the fish that he’d successfully spiked.

‘I call that a success.’

**

Clarke climbed from the water, stripping off her soaked shirt and moving to hang it over a tree. She did the same to her trousers, before running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. Then she turned back to the picnic, found Bellamy’s eyes desperately looking everywhere but at her.

Weird, usually he had no trouble with things like that. She wondered if it was because of the scars, quickly moved to her satchel that she’d brought and pulled out one of her spare shirts.

‘Do you think five fish are enough?’ Bellamy asked, once she joined him on the rug. Clarke looked to the fish, then back to Bellamy’s hopeful expression.

‘I mean, it’ll feed us?’ She offered, watching his smile grow.

‘That’s dinner sorted then.’ Clarke laughed, before deciding now was the perfect time to give Bellamy his gift. She reached for her sketchbook, pulling out the drawing she’d made and wrapped in some old paper to keep it safe. Offering it out, she watched Bellamy’s eyebrows shoot up.

‘What’s this?’ His fingers began unwrapping, while Clarke tried to stop the blood rushing to her cheeks. What if he hadn't been serious about wanting a sketch?

‘Your sketch.’ She watched his mouth open, his eyes widening as he took in her drawing. It wasn’t her best, she could never quite get herself right, but it was better than nothing. Clarke rubbed her neck awkwardly, trying not to show how nervous she was about his response.

‘I know it’s not great, I just…’

‘Not great? Clarke, this is… incredible.’ Bellamy breathed out the word like it was the most honest thing he’d ever said, and Clarke ducked her head.

‘I’m glad you like it.’ She watched as he re-wrapped it, careful fingers moving over the edges with precision. Gentle, so unlike the man that had just wielded a spear to fish for them.

‘C’mere.’ His arms were spread, and Clarke was surprised. Sure, hugs weren’t a new thing between the two of them, but they were usually reserved for near-death experiences. Maybe it was the new affection that came with sleeping in the same room.

She shuffled forwards, wrapped her arms around Bellamy and hugged.

**

He let his fingers dip into the blonde hair, wondering when the last time Clarke cut it. Long hair suited her, although she rarely left it down, preferring to tie it back in complicated braids that Bellamy had learned to do so he could do Octavia’s hair.

Clarke had fallen asleep sometime after Bellamy had pointed out that one of the clouds looked like a fish. She’d told him he had fishing on the brain, and then dropped down so her head rested in his lap, leaving him to admire how peaceful the moment was. Her legs were curled up to her body, arms against her chest, bare skin on display for him to stare at. Scarred, faint marks he wanted to trace, to ask about. Some were from the burns, but others he didn’t recognise, like the one on the back of her neck that his fingers ran over.

The sketch felt heavy in the pocket of his jacket, the piece of paper worth more to him than anything else he owned. Clarke had looked so nervous, chewing on her lip as she handed it across, ducking her head when he complimented her work.

It was stunning. Not only the detail she’d put into it, from the colour of her jacket to the streaks of blue in her hair, to the vivid colours in her eyes, but the fact she’d drawn herself. Bellamy knew that she didn’t like doing it, the proof of that was all over the village, and so the drawing he now had? He loved it.

He reached out for her sketchbook, unable to deny curiosity anymore. The pages were worn, a mixture of ink and charcoal sketches that he flicked through. The Village, her Panthers, the group. A couple of the Canadance nation, of the Well in the centre of the Valley. One of Isla, with her hair braided and a spear in her hand. Of Kane, teaching the children of Wonkru.

One of flames, stretching up the side of the page, with a figure facing away from the page, looking over the wreckage of what looked to be a building. He paused, tracing the edges of the sketch as he tried to figure out what it could be, before he moved on.

On the last page, his throat caught.

The Pride, each one recognisable through the way she’d drawn them, focused on the small features she found adorable in each of her Panthers. They were curled up, a mess of blankets between them, but that was not what Bellamy was focused on.

He was in the centre of the drawing, face turned into a pillow, a sheet wrapped around his waist lazily and Osleya laying beside him, one of his arms draped over her. The detail was intricate, from the way his hair was messy, to the faint scar just above the small of his back that Clarke had sketched like she had traced it a thousand times.

When had she drawn it?

He didn’t have much time to think about what it could mean, to hope that it was a sign, because Clarke was tensing up in his arms.

Putting the sketchbook down, he got ready for her to wake.

Her head rolled, and Bellamy presumed he would be greeted by those bright eyes that he could get lost in.

Instead, her face was slick with black blood, and he had just enough time to pull away from underneath her before Clarke was dropping back to the blanket, body arching up as her eyes flicked open, rolling back.

Bellamy’s scream ripped from his throat the moment Clarke’s body started jerking, and the mare that they’d left untied bolted back in the direction of the Village.

‘Clarke!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, it was getting too fluffy for my liking


	30. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy knows, Bellamy's trying to be there for Clarke, and some more of the Pride

If Bellamy had thought about it, he would have been thankful that the Village was relatively empty when he arrived. In fact, there was only Miller on Guard, who went running the second he spotted Bellamy carrying Clarke’s limp form. He’d run, unable to do anything about the fact their horse had gone, so had carried Clarke all the way from the rocks to the Village.

He’d never seen Abby’s expression shift so quickly, the moment he walked into the infirmary. She dropped the bag she’d been holding, ran across the room to where Bellamy was placing Clarke down. She’d stopped seizing some while ago, but was still unconscious, chest rising and falling gently.

‘What happened?’ Abby demanded, fingers darting to Clarke’s pulse, while Bellamy cradled her hand gently.

‘I… she was asleep. And then she was seizing, and there was blood…’ He trailed off, stumbling away as Abby rushed around.

Hands rested on his shoulders, Jackson guiding him back to a chair. A blanket was draped over his shoulders, and Bellamy was about to ask why, when he realised he was shaking. His hands were a dark black, his shirt stained, but all he could think about was the fact that Clarke was on the bed in front.

Abby had cut away the shirt, small sticky pads being placed over Clarke’s chest while Jackson covered her bare legs with a blanket. Outside, he could hear a disturbance, turned his head to see Octavia and Raven come running in. They were followed by Kane, Monty, Harper, Echo and Emori.

‘Bell.’ Octavia came to his side, a small hand slipping into his, and he was thankful for the touch. Kane came to his side, a hand on his arm and a squeeze of comfort, which Bellamy hadn't expected.

On the bed, Clarke’s body tensed up once more, and he shut his eyes to stop the image playing out in front.

**

The moment Miller told him that Clarke was ill, Murphy knew what he needed to do. Honestly, with Clarke’s ongoing attempts to hide her sickness from everyone but him, he had been prepared for this moment. Once Lexa failed to hide Clarke from the damage of the chip, there would be very little to stop the deterioration of the Flame.

The thing that made Clarke able to bear the Flame was her blood, or more accurately, something in her blood. If he bothered to listen, he might have known exactly what that was. Clarke had spent hours explaining it to him, about what made her able to withstand the influences that the Flame could have.

Anyway, back in the current, Murphy was moving away from the infirmary. He knew what to do, even if he had to hurry, because Abby would try and heal Clarke in a way that wouldn’t work. Taking the Flame out was quite possibly the worst idea anyone could have, because of the fact that Lexa was protecting Clarke’s mind from a complete meltdown.

He reached Clarke’s old home, the dirt hole, with relative speed. Inside, he found just one of her Panthers, recognising it to be Kappa. The Panther cocked its head to the side, not bothering Murphy as he moved to the back of the cave, to the place where Clarke had buried her secrets. Digging wasn’t hard, his fingers scraping through the loose dirt to reveal a box. Inside, he flicked over the papers that contained both sketches and formulas, focusing on the vial at the bottom.

Back when Clarke had taken them to Bekka’s lab, Murphy had the chance to ask Clarke why she had experimented on her own blood. Now, as his fingers curled around the vial of black, he understood why.

She was far smarter than he ever gave her credit for, pocketing the vial and looking to the Panther that was watching him.

‘We need to hurry.’

**

The room was filled with panicking people. Abby, desperately trying to hook Clarke up to an IV line, while Jackson padded the bed around her to stop her limbs from hitting the edges. Bellamy was seated, looking to be in shock, with a blanket around his shoulders and black blood covering his hands. Around the room, the friends that Clarke didn’t believe would care if she got hurt, staring at her with a desperation that Murphy was trying not to let show.

He pushed past Kane, moving to the trolley that Abby had wheeled closer. The needle pierced the bottle, soaking up what he hoped was Clarke’s safety-net, before shoving the Doctor out of the way.

A hand closed over his, Jackson, eyes terrified as they stared at the vial.

‘Trust me.’ Murphy simply said, before moving to Clarke’s body. She was still twitching, but Murphy didn’t have time to wait for this set of seizures to stop. He tilted her head to the side, cradling her cheek gently as he pressed the tip of the needle to the side of her neck.

‘Sorry, Princess.’ He whispered, too quiet for anyone else to hear, sliding it into her skin. She didn’t flinch, not even as he depressed the plunger, watching it empty into her body.

For a moment, nothing happened. Clarke continued to jerk, before her body fell limp, and her heartrate slowed back down. Murphy waited, watched as her eyes fluttered open, blue eyes looking around before focusing on him.

‘Murphy?’ Her voice was weak, rough and croaked, but it was the best thing he’d ever heard in that moment. Clarke struggled to sit up, Murphy offering out a hand to help, before he stepped away so Bellamy could embrace her.

It was a scene too emotional, too personal, so he turned away and returned to Emori’s side.

**

Clarke drew another vial of blood from her arm, with Raven’s help, and then placed a thumb over the wound. After convincing them that she was definitely fine, that it was just a minor fault with the Flame, the crowds of people had eventually dwindled down to just Bellamy, Raven and her Mom. She made a note to go and speak to Murphy later, to thank him for his quick thinking, but for now, her focus was on Raven.

‘It’ll be a couple of weeks before I’m comfortable enough to try and change the coding, maybe we should be thinking about removing it.’ Raven remarked, handing the vial across to Abby. Clarke watched it leave, hesitant to let it out of her sight. Nightblood wasn’t a good thing, it was dangerous, and she was unsure of having it anywhere but in her control.

‘It’s fine. The blockade’s back up, it’ll hold.’ It was Clarke’s fault, if she was honest, for not noticing the warning signs. Not being able to sleep was a good sign that something was coming, and combined with the nightmare that had plagued her sleep… Well, she’d be more careful from now on.

‘I’ll get back to work on it. You two should take a shower.’ Raven’s nose wrinkled up, glancing between her and Bellamy, and Clarke chuckled.

‘Thanks, Raven.’

Bellamy helped her up, Clarke leaning on him slightly more than she should have been. A Commander had to look strong, but the sun had set, and so most of the citizens were in bed. She could have this moment, allowed herself to be led in the direction of the shower-block.

‘I’m waiting right outside, don’t even think about arguing.’ Bellamy grumbled, glaring enough so that Clarke didn’t argue. She stepped into the cubicle, shutting the door between them, even if she could still see his feet under the door.

‘I’m sorry I ruined our day.’ She reached for the shirt she’d been given, tugged it off her body. Then she reached for the pants, ones that had been in the infirmary stores. She hooked them over the door, before they quickly disappeared.

‘You couldn’t help it. I’m just glad you’re okay.’ Bellamy answered, his feet vanishing for a moment. He was probably putting the clothes somewhere, he’d asked Raven as they left if she’d mind bringing a spare set. Clarke stepped out of her underwear, hesitantly hooked them over the door as well, before turning to the water.

It was cold to begin with, but it warmed up quickly. Another thing she hadn't had during her time alone on earth, warm showers. Raven and Monty were incredible with all the complicated wiring that she couldn’t hope to understand.

The soap smelt alright, not as nice as the ones she used, but pleasant enough. She washed her face first, getting rid of the blood, them moved to wash the rest of her body. Her hair was the last thing she went for, before she turned off the water and stepped out. Over the door, a single towel was hung, so she took it and dried off quickly.

Figuring that her head wasn’t quite stable enough to bend over to towel-dry her hair and wrap it, she opted for just hooking it around her shoulders.

‘Clothes are on the bench, I’ve got my back turned.’ Bellamy called, Clarke thanking him as she stepped out. Sure enough, a pile of clothes sat on the bench.

Most of the clothing was hers, apart from the shirt, which was one of Bellamy’s. For some reason, the smell was comforting, Clarke taking a deep breath in as she hooked it over her body. Tucking it into the trousers, she cleared her throat to let Bellamy know he could turn around.

He did, eyes scanning over her like he was worried she wasn’t quite okay.

‘My shirts suit you.’ He joked, snatching the towel from around her shoulders and beginning to dry her hair. Clarke wobbled slightly, reached out and let her hands rest on his chest for stability.

‘Come on, let’s get you to bed.’ Bellamy’s arm wrapped around her waist, Clarke accepting his lead as he led her back to their nest. It was empty, so Clarke could just slide down to the blankets and groan as her muscles complained.

‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered, watching as Bellamy shut the door and stripped down. As soon as she spoke, Bellamy was crawling into the sheets beside her, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her. Like earlier, she was surprised by the affection, but didn’t complain. Tucking her head under his chin, she let her hand settle over his heartbeat.

‘You’re going to be fine.’ Bellamy stated firmly, leaving no room for argument, and Clarke was glad he couldn’t see her face. The tears welled up without her permission, and she swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat.

What had she done, to deserve a friend like Bellamy? And how could she ever repay his kindness, his easy affection, all that he’d done for her?

**

Bellamy didn’t sleep that night. He dozed for a while, let his eyes rest as he kept his hands on Clarke, just to make sure she’d be close enough to keep safe if anything happened. In the early hours of the morning, Seda came in through the open shutters, regarded him for a moment, before coming to curl up beside them.

Clarke slept soundly, breathing even for the entire night, occasionally rolling around a little, but never moving far. His heart skipped every time she moved, for she’d settle back down, then seek out his warmth. If her hand ever slipped from its position over his chest, it would return the moment her unconscious mind realised it, and it was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

Had Clarke finally seen the shift between them? Was this her acceptance of it, or was it just so natural for the two of them to fall into this pattern? Bellamy didn’t know the answers to any of his questions, could only find comfort in the fact that Clarke was happy to be at his side.

‘I thought I was going to lose you.’ He murmured into the darkness, lips pressing to her forehead.

‘Whatever you’re hiding from me, Clarke, it won’t change anything.’

He could only hope he worked up the courage to say it to her face.

**

After her talk with Murphy, which ended with her hugging him tightly and laughing at his awkward expression, she returned to solidifying her presence amongst Wonkru. Whispers had spread that she’d been brought in sick, things she couldn’t afford with the slight friction from some members of the Canadance Nation, so she spent the morning in the public eye. The children were less restrained with their questions, more likely to ask ones that she found difficult to answer, but it helped that Bellamy was close by.

Then, because of the storm that she knew was coming, she made sure to have the Village inside by lunchtime. It gave her the chance to work off some energy with her Pride, the Panthers gathering by the Well while Clarke readied herself to spar with them. She wrapped her knuckles, stepped out of her boots and rolled her shoulders back, ready to fight.

‘You look like a right weirdo.’ Bellamy teased, wandering across with a cup of something steaming. It looked like her own herbal drink, so she had no qualms with walking across to steal it from him.

‘You’re supposed to be under shelter.’

‘It’s not raining yet. Plus, I came to see you fight.’ A Commander was expected to train most days, and Clarke had been slacking. Admittedly, her illness was making it hard to keep training, but if the Canadance people thought her weak, then they might rise up. She’d noticed the way Eleanor was trying to recruit people, moving around with whispers and half-formed plots.

It wasn’t at the point where Clarke needed to worry, most of the new nation were already loyal to her. Some reported her whisperings, others clearly stated they wanted no part in it.

‘As long as you get back in when it starts to rain…’ She trailed off, secretly glad that he’d come to join her. Turning back to her now-expanded Pride, she readied herself for the fight.

**

True to his word, Bellamy left when the first drop of rain hit his shoulder. By that point, Clarke had taken out Graun and Kepplei, moving on to attacking Woda and Kappa. He reached the Church, found Murphy seated in the doorway with that expression on his face, the one that meant trouble.

‘What is it?’ Bellamy asked, skipping past pleasantries.

‘Eleanor was asking questions about Isla. Think we should tell Clarke?’ Bellamy paused, looking across to where Clarke was currently pinning a Panther down into the sticky mud, hair slicked back and eyes alight with adrenaline. Powerful, it never failed to impress him how quick she was, even as Osleya lunged to knock her off.

‘No. She’s got enough to worry about, like getting that Chip fixed.’ Osleya was down, Clarke narrowly avoiding the swipe of claws from Kappa, before flipping over. A complete opposite from the Clarke that was lying on the infirmary bed.

‘She’ll be alright, Bellamy. She always is.’ He knew that was true, but could it continue? Would Clarke always be as invincible as she liked to pretend?


	31. A Perfect Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the plot my dudes, and it's not going well

The thing about the Commander, she thought, was that Clarke was blind to her potential. Too busy being chased after by her group of followers, by the dark-haired man that was loving her like she was worth something. Unlike the rest of her nation, she was not blind to Clarke’s incapability. The woman moved quicker, slipped in through the window and waited until the mechanic had left her station.

Eleanor had stumbled upon this by chance. Trying to unearth enough dirt to overthrow the Commander wasn’t easy, nor time effective, and so she had investigated with the one weakness that Clarke definitely did have. That thing in her head, the one that contained the so-called “memories” of the Commanders.

The other Councilmembers didn’t have the strength to do what needed to be done, to get rid of the Commander and replace her with a Council that was equally representative. After all, they had been the ones to bring the technology that the mechanic was now using. It had been on that night that Eleanor realised they were planning something, a method to control the chip inside Clarke’s mind.

A replica had been on display, a tiny little chip that Raven had called ALIE. Eleanor figured this was her chance, picked up the object and stared at it. If this was what made Clarke worthy of being a Commander… Eleanor had picked it up, admired the thing in her hand, before she’d tried to break it. Slammed it down onto the counter, and watched as it shattered.

Long tendrils came out, and before Eleanor could process it, the thing was wrapping around her skin.

When she’d come back around, the chip was back on the table. Inside her head, however, three words that kept bouncing around until Eleanor couldn’t think of anything else.

_Those she loves._

The window was left open, as usual, and Eleanor climbed in. Sure enough, exactly where it had been on the first night she’d seen it, the chip was placed. As her plan began to piece together, as she slowly managed to convince enough of the Canadance Nation to listen to her, the chip became more and more useful. It provided pieces of information that Eleanor would never have thought about, which was why she kept coming back to it.

Like usual, the tendrils appeared without a word, sneaking up her skin and into the wounds that they’d made on the first night. Unlike her first experience, Eleanor remained awake, sinking down to the floor and cradling her arm as she tried to process everything she could see. A voice, a man’s voice, telling her exactly how to break down the Commander. A plan, one that Eleanor couldn’t find fault in, and she eventually rose up.

Tomorrow, she’d begin to put the pieces into motion. Placing the chip back down, she went to the window.

‘I’ll be back for you at dusk.’ She promised, before slipping from the room as quickly as she’d entered.

**

Clarke laughed, returning the sword to its sheath and pulling Octavia to her feet. The girl grinned, clapping her on the shoulder before wandering back across to Echo. Training had been a mercy this morning, especially considering Clarke had so much built up energy. With the new treatment her Mom had suggested yesterday, she’d felt a fresh wave of enthusiasm that had missing. People did care for her, they didn’t just want her here because she was the Commander.

She walked across the Village, shooting a smile to Murphy, who was seated by Isla while she listened to Kane’s stories. Bellamy was on guard duty, down in the infirmary today, and it was a good excuse to go and see him.

‘Clarke? Can I have a quick word?’ Raven appeared, her hair tied back but frazzled, along with a slight smudge of black down the side of her face. Grease, presumably, and Clarke nodded. Following the mechanic back into her current work-room, Clarke took a moment to look around. She hadn't been in this room in a while, not since she’d decked it out with things for Raven when she came back to earth. It was a haunting reminder of the time Clarke had spent alone.

‘What’s up?’ She asked, staring at the chip on the bench. It looked hauntingly similar to the one inside her head, was the one that Raven was currently trying to play about with to see how it would react.

‘I found a loophole in the coding, I think it might be a way to separate Sheidheda, while keeping the other Commanders.’ While keeping Lexa, the unspoken thing that everyone knew Clarke wanted, even if she didn’t actually ask. Lately, the Commander had fallen quiet inside Clarke’s mind, too busy trying to maintain the barrier against Sheidheda to speak.

Gaia had tried helping her call out to the Commanders, multiple meditating sessions that always ended with Clarke’s head pounding and her nose dripping dark. Bellamy had refused to let her go to another one, deeming it an unnecessary risk. Usually, she’d disagree with him, but something in the way he looked at her stopped her argument. He cared, was putting in a lot of effort in to keeping her alive, and the least she could do was help him with that.

‘That’s great! When do you think you’ll be ready?’ Once this was sorted, Clarke could settle back into her life as Commander. Could finish training her Second, and then maintain the peace that Wonkru saw.

‘The day after tomorrow. Unless Sheidheda’s causing an issue…’ Clarke shook her head, dismissing the problem. In truth, the only time she felt threatened was in the deepest nightmares, where she could have sworn a voice was haunting her.

‘Okay. I’ll let the others know.’

**

‘You swapped schedules.’ Clarke stated, nudging Bellamy’s leg. He was dozing under one of the trees, an arm over his eyes to block the sunlight.

‘One of the Canadance people wanted to work the day shift. I said I didn’t mind.’ Clarke had no issue with the exchange, although she would miss Bellamy’s company tonight. It was odd, though, to swap shifts. Naturally, she’d planned everything so that shifts were given with enough space in between to rest and relax. Swapping them seemed an odd thing to do, but they were new to Wonkru, so she had to give them time to adjust.

‘Look at you, being so trusting.’ She joked, sitting down by his side. Clarke was supposed to be teaching Isla at the moment, but had then decided going out might be a nice idea. It was a suggestion made at breakfast, when she’d gone to the Cooks to collect food for the group. One of the cooks, a lady named Martha, had pointed out that she hadn't gone Hunting in a while. The idea was appreciated, and so Clarke had sent Murphy to watch Isla for slightly longer than usual.

‘Just trying to keep the peace.’ Bellamy’s smirk was incredible to see, always made him look so much younger. Clarke let her gaze stray for a moment, before looking back to the Village.

‘I’m going out hunting. I’ve left Brell in charge, as normal.’ Her current-second had been more than happy with the assignment, otherwise she’d have been on guard duty with Octavia. An accident in the rotas, one that Clarke had fully intended on rectifying but had become distracted, mostly by how relaxed she’d felt recently.

The more she settled, the more she let herself smile, the more her body fought to stay alive. The headaches were reducing, the nosebleeds saved for the most painful of moments, and her muscles didn’t ache as much. After the seizure episode of last week, Clarke had put on weight. More than she’d realised, until she’d run a hand down her ribs and felt the covering over them.

‘Bring me back something tasty?’ Bellamy reached for her hand briefly, let his calloused fingertips run over her palm, before drawing back. The casual touch was nice, more than welcome, and something that happened regularly. Clarke had been touch-starved in her five years, but with the affection from Bellamy, it became easier to accept the others hugging her.

‘Just because you hate vegetables.’ She ruffled his hair, standing up and stretching out. Bellamy’s laughter stayed with her as she moved across to her Pride, falling back into her old habits as she clicked her tongue to her Panthers. Seda came to her side first, before the others fell in line.

How easy it was, to become something she thought would be impossible.

Clarke, a Leader without death, without unnecessary blood being shed.

A perfect life.

**

Murphy didn’t have time to turn, the object striking him in the back of his head before he could shout for Isla to run. She was fierce, turned to face his attacker, but something struck her in the chest before she could move to his side. A small dart, red furred at the end, and the girl dropped to her knees. He could do nothing but watch, his face pressed into the dirt, as fingers began to bind his hands behind his back.

Isla was gagged, not that she needed to be, the girl was unconscious.

‘Do we have the others?’ A voice questioned, while something pricked his neck. He remembered seeing Clarke, listening to her account of how she’d been drugged by something that had been injected into the side of her neck. It was all too carefully planned, a perfect attack, and Murphy felt his vision begin to blur.

‘The Doctor, the Teacher, the Second. Just waiting on the lover.’ Bellamy. Murphy tried to growl, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and his fighting just wore him out quicker.

He had to resign himself to falling still, letting his eyes flutter shut.

His last conscious thought, a prayer for Clarke to avoid the trap they were trying to lay.


	32. Save them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's on her way to save them, but something's beginning to go wrong.

‘If you are the Commander they say you are, then you’d know when to bow down.’ Eleanor snarled, lips curling up at the edges. Around them, Wonkru were ready to kill her, regardless of what stood in their way.

Clarke wanted peace.

The Commander looked to Murphy, on his knees with a gun to his temple, then back to Eleanor. Taking the infirmary hostage had been a smart move, as had taking all those that she loved and placing them down into the prison. There were at least twenty people between Clarke and her friends, including Bellamy and her Mom, which were the priority for her.

Eleanor dug the knife deeper into Isla’s neck, the girl refusing to give the benefit of making a sound. Why hadn't Clarke done something sooner? She knew this was coming, and had refused to see it. Shutting her eyes, playing happy families with the rest of the group. Sleeping at night, curled to Bellamy’s side, when she knew someone was plotting against her.

She didn’t get to be happy. She’d learned that a long time ago.

Joshua’s ashen face proved he had no idea that this was going to happen. Good, she’d hate to lose him as well.

‘A Commander does not bow down to traitors.’ Clarke needed to think. But her head was spinning, and the sound of her heartbeat was ringing through her mind on repeat. This was her fault, her slowness had led to this.

_‘Not long now, Clarke.’_

Eleanor was fiercer than Clarke had given her credit for. The knife moved quicker than anyone could have predicted, and Clarke listened to the scream that rang out across Wonkru as Yanna watched her daughter be stabbed.

Those that held guns, the people Eleanor had convinced into her traitorous plot, looked shocked as the girl slumped to the floor, Isla’s tiny hands trying to wrap around the knife embedded in her stomach. Wide eyes, focusing on Clarke as she fell, and it was the last fragment of hope that the Commander had.

Clarke whistled, heard her Pride tear through Wonkru to reach her side, and the gunshots began.

**

Murphy threw his head back, hitting the man behind, and then swivelled to avoid the gunshot. He looked to the left, to where Clarke had reached Isla, was cradling the girl gently while her Panthers tore apart the four armed men outside the infirmary and prison.

When she rose back up, Murphy saw the shift. That wasn’t Clarke, who reached for the sword at her back and drew it slowly. That was the Commander of Wonkru, who held up her hand to still the rest of the Warriors.

 _‘Jus drein jus daun.’_ Murphy crawled to the side, watching as Clarke sliced cleanly through the first man to charge at her. Eleanor was on the ground, trying to drag herself towards the building that they held, but Clarke had a secret weapon that Murphy should have expected.

Her gun, solid in her hand when she fired one round, hitting Eleanor’s foot and immobilising her. Murphy managed to get Kepplei to free his bindings, stood up slowly and looked around.

Eight men so far, and Clarke had sliced through them like it wasn’t even an effort. In fact, as more came from the building in front, he could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile on her face. The Pride advanced, protecting her from the bullets as she charged.

‘Murphy!’ He rose his head, caught the gun that came flying in his direction. Clarke’s gun, the same one that she’d held to her temple, still warm from the shot she’d fired at Eleanor.

Murphy took the opportunity to slip around the bloodshed, to move towards the infirmary.

**

Bellamy watched as more of the Warriors poured out, answering the sounds of gunshots that echoed above them. He could hear growling, the sound of Clarke’s Pride attacking, and he hoped that she was alright. She should be, she had all of Wonkru to protect her.

‘Raven, how are you getting on?’ Abby questioned, looking to where the mechanic was trying to pick the lock. They’d been drugged, all of them, and had woken up in the restraining confines of the cell that had been used to lock up Clarke’s tormentors.

‘Shut up!’ A girl was standing outside the Cage, the only one left downstairs now. She had a gun in her hand, but Bellamy could tell from experience that she had no idea how to use it. It was waved towards them, towards Raven, but the mechanic ignored the threat and continued to try and pick the lock.

‘If you surrender now, help us out, we won’t let Wonkru get you.’ Kane’s attempts at appeasement had no effect on the girl. Outside, more screaming could be heard, and then footsteps rang out.

Murphy appeared, eyes slightly bloodshot but otherwise unharmed, with a gun in his hand that pointed straight to the girl.

‘John.’ Emori breathed out, and he flashed her a grin, before his gaze turned back to the girl. Bellamy watched as two Panthers appeared, Kepplei and Kappa, stalking down the stairs and going to Murphy’s side.

‘Logically, you can’t shoot me and the two of them before we reach you.’ Murphy’s voice implied he was bored, rather than facing down someone who held a weapon that could kill him.

‘You won’t win. We’ve got more people than you think!’ She screeched, fingers tightening around the weapon. Murphy snorted, gestured with the gun back towards the entrance.

‘Those thirty people? Falling like flies.’ That was enough for the girl to tremble, lowering the gun and dropping it to the ground. Murphy waited till she’d kicked it across, before cocking the gun.

‘Please, mercy…’

‘I think you should be telling that to her.’ Murphy nodded to Kappa as he spoke, the Panther approaching the Cage steadily.

‘Clarke? She’ll have to forgive me, put me on trial!’ She was a child. No more than eighteen, caught up in a plot far bigger than she could have imagined, but Bellamy didn’t feel sorry for her.

‘That’s not her name.’ Murphy’s eyes narrowed on her, the gun now steady as he aimed it for her chest.

‘Commander.’ She tried, and he shook his head.

‘Try again.’

‘Heda.’ What was he doing?

‘Close.’ The girl got it first, long before Bellamy did, just as a second set of footsteps rang out.

‘ _Wanheda_.’

**

Clarke drew back her sword, listening to the satisfying gurgle of blood as the last man dropped down. The clearing was stained with blood, drenched in it, both traitor and innocent alike. Her gaze drifted back to Isla, who was currently being cradled by Yanna. The woman, formerly a friendly, motherly figure, now looked like she could murder everyone in sight.

‘Wanheda? What would you have us do with her?’ Eleanor was trying to drag herself away, cradling her ankle that currently was bleeding out, and the Commander took a moment to stare.

‘Leave her. I’ll be back to deal with her betrayal.’ The Grounder nodded, even if his hands itched to go to the weapon. The Canadance Nation had killed one of Wonkru, and Clarke would not forgive their betrayal.

She moved down the steps, into the infirmary and towards the prison, just in time to hear someone call her name.

Wanheda.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a small voice began to whisper it, the same word, over and over. Wanheda, Commander of Death.

It was true, though. She had just sliced apart twenty-seven people, she’d counted them as they fell, yet she’d never felt more alive. Drenched in blood, with the sword still in her hand, unable to release the weapon.

Murphy didn’t look back to her, didn’t need to.

‘Wanheda. She’s all yours.’ He remarked, lowering the gun and tucking it into his belt. Her gun, but they’d discuss that later.

She was a girl. Young, naïve, but Clarke would not allow her betrayal to go unpunished. Not when she’d lost her Second, when she’d lost Isla.

_Because the Commander of Death loses everyone, eventually._

‘Please, Heda, I didn’t mean…’ Clarke took a step forward, sheathing her sword in one smooth movement. The girl was sobbing, tears that stained her cheeks, and Clarke reached out to cup her cheek. Her fingers were sticky with blood, left a smear across the girl’s pale skin as she moved.

 _‘The way to peace is through submission.’_ That wasn’t Lexa, Clarke numbly realised.

‘Shh, that’s it. You’re okay.’ Clarke drew her in, the girl falling willingly into her arms.

Isla was dead. Stabbed, because Clarke had got complacent. Had believed herself to be more powerful than she actually was. What had Lexa told her, so many times?

There was no place for emotions in Leadership. She had to rule them with strength, to prove that she could control Wonkru. That she could keep the peace that they needed, to stop the Valley from being destroyed.

‘I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry!’ Clarke reached for her knife, a slow movement that was hidden by the girl’s body.

She’d done this before, with Finn. It played before her eyes, as she stabbed the girl straight into her stomach. A gasp, a weak protest, before her legs gave out from under her.

Clarke listened to the body hit the floor, glanced to the knife in her hand, then looked back to Murphy.

‘Are they all dead?’ He asked, but she knew he wouldn’t be bothered by the answer.

‘Not quite.’ She had one left, and Clarke let her anger build up as she drew her sword once again.

‘Clarke.’ It had her halting, out of instinct, when her Mom called her name. Murphy frowned in Abby’s direction, before placing a hand on her shoulder.

‘Go. Show them who the Commander is, and what happens to those that rebel.’ The bad guys. That was what they were, the two of them, and Clarke nodded.

**

Eleanor pleaded, but the chip did not respond. It stayed, solid against her arm with the tendrils buried into her skin, but no answer came. The people of Wonkru, warriors that kept throwing her back into the clearing of the dead, eyed up the chip in her arm with distaste.

She’d killed the girl, just as the voice had suggested. But rather than Clarke submitting, the Commander had slaughtered all of her rebels. Every single one, now dead, lying on the earth around her.

‘Please, tell me what to do!’ She cried, just as the Commander emerged once more. She looked like an Angel of death, Eleanor decided. Soaked in blood, with the vengeance written across her features, eyes ablaze with anger.

She shouldn’t have killed the girl.

‘Eleanor kom Canadance,’ She no longer even got the benefit of being part of the Lake People, ‘you are found guilty of treason against Wonkru. For that, your sentence is death.’ The cheer was deafening, all of the Clans celebrating such a thing. Apart from her people, from the Council, who looked at her in horror.

‘Please.’ She tried, looking down to the chip on her arm. Clarke admired it for a moment, before grinning.

‘You were played, Eleanor.’ The sword came up, and Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut.

_‘Klarke, Wanheda, Vessel of Sheidheda.’_

The voice was the last thing she heard, combined with the whistling sound as the air split around the descending sword.

**

The scream was guttural, Clarke raising her head as someone tried to break through the crowds. A woman, who was unstopped by Wonkru as she dived into the dirt by Eleanor’s side. The resemblance between them was what drew Clarke to the conclusion that they were siblings, watching as the woman tried to wake her sister back up.

Behind her, she could hear the sounds of her friends, released back into Wonkru. No doubt staring at the mess Clarke had made, at the dead.

At Isla.

‘You monster!’ The woman shrieked, the nearest Grounder reaching for his weapon. Clarke held a hand up, halting his action. She had done nothing wrong, besides pointing out the obvious.

‘You are Wonkru, or you are an enemy of Wonkru.’ Clarke waited, fingers curled around her sword, for the decision. The girl’s head snapped up, eyes filled with tears and her lips drawn back into a snarl.

‘You should have burned in that fire.’ Those words, while unexpected, did not hurt. Clarke knew that already, she had been the one to live in hell. The Commander waited, watched as the girl reached for a weapon. Still, she did not attack.

‘How many people have you killed, just because you play God?’ She hissed, raising up slowly. Not a threat to Clarke, she barely even knew how to hold the knife in her hand.

‘More than you could ever imagine.’ Clarke answered honestly, the images flicking in her mind.

‘You’ll drown in their blood.’ The girl rose the knife up, and Clarke expected the spray before it hit her. The girl’s throat opened in a clean cut, although it was not deep enough for her to bleed out quickly. In fact, Clarke probably could have saved her. Instead, she watched as the girl fell to her knees, and took a step closer.

‘Not before you drown in yours.’ She shot back, before rising her head to her people.

One by one, they dropped to a knee, until Clarke looked to the Canadance Nation.

Joshua knelt first, with Liam by his side. The rest followed in a wave, and Clarke rolled her shoulder back.

Her people were alive.

_You lost Isla._

‘ _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodataim_.’ Echoed out, Wonkru repeating her words as she looked to the dead.

_‘May we meet again, Commander of Death.’_

It wasn’t Lexa.


	33. Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, the title is not about the snack.

The water ran red, swirling down the drain as she watched. Every time she scrubbed at her skin, more blood came free, from the people that she had killed. All that blood, staining her hands forever. Clarke let her head thump against the tiles, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to rise.

‘I never asked for this.’ She murmured under the spray, knowing it was drowned out by the water.

She cut it off, stepping out from the cold and dressing methodically. Every piece of leather felt heavy against her skin, the fabric weighing her down like it was soaked in blood. She could have sworn it was there, the redness that had covered her just moments before.

Moving to the mirror, she reached for the different paints that belonged to Brell. First, she darkened her eyes. Then came the forehead piece, setting it into place and finally reaching for her sword. It was clean, somebody had brought it to her along with the fresh clothes, and she settled it at her side.

The reflection was unrecognisable. She wasn’t Clarke of Skaikru, hadn't been ever since she first killed Finn. She was the Commander of Death, and her people were safe. Safe, until another threat faced them, and they yet again looked to her for the decisions.

‘I am not the hero.’ She murmured, tracing her jawline and watching as the person in the mirror did the same.

Clarke moved out of the room, into the Village. Night had fallen, and the dead were wrapped and placed onto the fire for their funeral. On top of the pyre lay Isla, dressed in the leathers that Clarke had given her, with a knife at her side.

The same knife used to kill her.

‘Commander.’ Brell greeted, tone cold. Clarke preferred it this way, had been avoiding the stares of her friends ever since walking from the field of blood. She didn’t respond, turning instead to Wonkru, who fell silent at her approach.

‘Tonight, we end the bloodshed between our people! For the crimes against Isla kom Podakru, we light the fire in remembrance.’ She reached for the torch, let her fingers wrap around it.

_You should be the one burning, Clarke._

‘ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.’ The fire caught quickly, the flames licking up the side of the podium and engulfing the girl, along with those that Clarke had killed. A silence fell, an understanding between their people, and Clarke embraced it. Just for a moment, she could pretend that there was no issue.

Then, she looked across to Joshua.

‘Summon the Canadance Council immediately.’ He bowed his head, vanishing a moment later, and Clarke looked back to the flames.

If she’d burned, all those years ago, would this have happened?

**

Clarke was unmoving on her throne. The Council rambled, on and on about how Eleanor didn’t speak for them, how they had meant nothing by the attack. She listened, face calm, wondering when she’d learn that she couldn’t be the good guy in any story. When her leadership was over, they would tell stories of her like they did Sheidheda.

_‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’_

‘Commander, we cannot apologise enough for what happened to your child…’ Her child. Her Isla, the girl that she’d been raising up to become her Second. Having to go to Yanna, to apologise for how she’d let the girl down, was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Watching Yanna take her hand, and tell Clarke that it wasn’t her fault…

‘Isla.’ She corrected, the name burning a hole in her heart as she did so.

‘For what happened to Isla.’ Erik finished, and a silence fell. Clarke rose up, moving down the steps slowly, noted how the others flinched away from her advancement. She took the dagger from her belt, pressed it up under his chin and watched the man gulp.

‘The next time one of you steps out of line, I’ll cut your tongue from your mouth.’ It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise, because it was the truth. Erik held very still, and Clarke watched the end of the dagger as it pinpricked his skin.

_‘Or you could do it anyway.’_

‘Our people were hurt, by what happened earlier, Heda.’ Lucy tried, and Clarke removed the knife.

‘My people. As long as they stay on the side of Wonkru, then I will protect them with my life.’ Once, Maya had come to her in a hallucination, to point out that Clarke only ever saved her people. It was true, she’d kill anyone that stood between her and peace.

‘We aren’t your enemy.’ Erik stated firmly, to which Clarke chuckled.

_‘Everyone’s the enemy.’_

‘If you were, you’d already be dead. Get out, all of you.’ She snapped the words, watched as they bowed sharply, retreating from the room quicker than she thought possible. Joshua hesitated, looked to the others in the room, then to Clarke.

‘Clarke…’ He was trying to break a wall that needed to stay up, but she admired him for trying.

‘Go back to Liam, Joshua. Rest.’ He ducked his head, moving to the door before halting. Looking back over his shoulder, she was shocked by the amount of emotion on his face.

‘She was wrong. It’s a good thing you didn’t burn.’ Clarke listened to the door click shut, staring at the space he had been until her head began to hurt.

‘My gun.’ She stated, holding her hand out in Murphy’s direction.

For a moment, she thought he’d deny her. Then he scoffed, pulled it out of his belt and placed it into her open hand.

‘Only one bullet left, Princess.’ He stated, staring at her like he was trying to determine whether or not he should have given her back the gun.

_‘One bullet’s all you need.’_

Clarke had no second. There was no next Commander, because Isla was gone.

_‘All you have to do is ask, and I’ll help you.’_

‘Brell, take command of Wonkru. I’ll be back tomorrow.’ Clarke ignored whoever called her name, whistled to Seda and moved out of the Church.

She needed a plan, or space, or maybe both of those things.

**

Bekka’s lab was her destination. Even in the dark, she knew her way. Travelling across the sands with the jeep, and her Pride piled into the back, Clarke had time to think. To listen to the rhythmic sounds of the engine, to the growling and yapping from the back. Just her, and her Pride, once again.

If Clarke had died in Praimfaya, would they have achieved peace?

_‘Who needs peace?’_

The voice was louder this time, filled her head and left the words hovering in her subconscious. Clarke knew her fight wasn’t over, not after what she had seen. Reaching into her pocket, careful to keep one hand on the wheel, Clarke pulled out the scrap of fabric. She uncovered it slowly, to reveal the chip she had stolen from Eleanor’s body.

ALIE had been a threat. One that Clarke had stopped. The City of Light, her Mom, Lexa. All of that had been put behind them, but this chip survived. So had many others, currently stored in Bekka’s lab. They were inactive, had been ever since Clarke had found them. So why was one embedded in Eleanor? And what was on it, that she had been pleading to save her?

_‘Sometimes, it’s better to keep your enemies closer.’_

The chips could be a problem. She should have burned them when she had the chance, should have set them alight and never had to have dealt with this now.

Something stopped her. Memories of the Light City, of being able to hold onto Lexa…

_‘She’s safe. I might even let you see her.’_

Clarke killed the engine, stared at the rising sun as she slipped out of the jeep. It was time to figure out what was going on.

**

The Lab was as she’d left it, moving through the building and to the industrial-sized freezer that she’d been storing the chips in. Call it a precaution, but if they did wake up, Clarke wanted to inhibit all that she could.

When she’d experimented with her blood, she’d never thought the Flame would end up back in her system. She’d never thought that she’d have a voice inside her head, driving her to move through the lab towards the chips.

_‘Klarke, come and sit down.’_

It was a room, she could see it inside her mind. Every time her eyes flicked shut, she could see a room, with a board in the centre. A chessboard.

She ignored him, reaching for the freezer and lifting the handle up. It took a moment, a wave of freezing air that rushed over her skin. Clarke blinked it away, looking to the box that contained the chips.

The empty box.

Where had Eleanor’s chip come from? Who had told her about its location…

Oh no.

_‘Come, Klarke. Play the game.’_

Clarke had to get back to the Village.

**

Efana hadn't meant to touch them. Going to the lab with the Commander, it had been a chance to explore. The place had been incredible, full of technology she could only have dreamed of. The freezer contained vials of blood, nightblood, which made the Commander suitable for the Flame inside her head. There, she’d spotted the box, and the small chips inside.

They were like the Flame, and Efana had picked one up. It was cool, stayed in her palm for a moment, before she dropped it.

The wound on her thigh, the bite from the creature in the desert, was still open. It was the point where the tendrils reached, moving under her bandages before she could stop it.

Since then, Efana had been fighting the effects of the Chip. It told her to do things, things she knew weren’t right, but it was hard to resist the voice that kept speaking to her.

 _‘After all, you’re not as strong as Clarke_.’

At first, it was placing a chip inside of the murder, Palaya, so that the voice could tell her how to reach the Canadance Bunker. Then it was placing a chip conveniently into Raven’s hands, so that the mechanic could begin to work on the plan for Clarke. Pushing Eleanor in the right direction was easy, and Efana had to watch as the Commander struggled for control once again.

She liked Clarke. The woman was a good Commander, and didn’t deserve the hell that she was bringing. But the voice had promised that once she had done this simple task, he would release the hold over her. The chip would be gone, and Efana could keep her baby.

It didn’t make it easy. Efana had to pretend that she had no idea why Wonkru turned on them, those that she had given chips to picking up the nearest weapon as the voice took over. Like her, they had no resistance to the mind-chip, and they became helpless.

Bellamy was screaming to his friends, Brell giving the orders for the Clans to get to their homes, to barricade the doors and refuse entry to anyone that looked ill. They thought it a virus, but Efana knew better, retreating with the rest of Clarke’s friends and into the Church.

The Pride weren’t inside, considering they had gone with Clarke, but even if they were, they weren’t a threat to Efana. The voice had told her that they couldn’t distinguish between normal humans and those chipped, so Efana was safe. She watched as Kane, Murphy and Bellamy barred the doors, Indra grabbing Gaia and pulling her to the safety of the centre of the group.

Clarke had left. It was what she always did, after a big threat. She needed space, and Efana had to watch as their last hope drove away in a jeep.

‘It can’t be a virus!’ Abby protested, trying to explain the unlikely odds of that happening.

 _‘The Doctor. Chip her.’_ Efana looked across to where he had appeared, a figure dressed in dark. She knew who he was, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from moving over in the direction of the Doctor. Clarke’s Mom.

‘We need a plan.’

‘Kill them?’ Murphy’s suggestion was met with outrage, enough noise so that Efana could place a hand around Abby’s arm. The chip dug in instantly, the gasp that the Doctor made drowned out by the hatred for John’s idea.

‘There’s got to be a reason why…’ Raven was the mechanic, the one that might have been able to reprogram the chips. In the corner, Efana watched as the Dark Commander turned his attention to her.

Abby moved quickly, lunging for the knife on Brell’s belt. The Second may have faltered, but Echo did not, grabbing the Doctor just before the dagger embedded into Raven’s stomach.

It was a mess of people, Kane and Bellamy knocking her out and moving her back to the chains that had once held Palaya down. Now, they were used to bind the Doctor to her daughter’s throne, while Jackson talked about drugging her.

 _‘Aim the gun at the Mechanic. No, wait. At the boy.’_ There was no doubt who he was talking about, if there was one person Clarke couldn’t live without, it was Bellamy. The man had finished restraining Abby, was gesturing to the mark on her arm where the chip had gone in.

‘It’s like what happened with Eleanor.’ Raven stated, staring at the raised veins. Efana reached for the gun in her belt, hands trembling as she did so.

‘So we take it out.’ Bellamy reached for a knife, only for Monty to bat his hand away.

‘It would kill her. They have to be removed voluntarily, or by the mainframe.’ The doors to the Church rattled, Efana looking over her shoulder. The chipped members of Wonkru, trying to break down the doors and kill them all.

 _‘Do it.’_ Efana swallowed, thought to her baby. If she did this, her child might have a chance of living.

‘We need a plan, before they break… Efana?’ She cocked the gun, staring down the barrel at Brell, before focusing it on Bellamy.

‘I’m so sorry.’

**

Clarke climbed up the beams, scaling the side of the Church and slipping in through the top. Down below, the Village was awash with bodies, the smoking house currently on fire. A couple of chipped grounders were dragging a screaming woman towards the fire, but Clarke had her priorities. Her Pride waited for a command outside, while Clarke focused on the talking.

‘Efana, put the gun down.’ Bellamy’s hands were stretched out, trying to appease the armed-woman but Efana was trembling. Stronger than most, fighting the command that had been given, and Clarke could respect that. She hoisted herself over the last timber frame, dropping down to the floor and rolling to break the fall. The gun didn’t turn to her, but Clarke had expected that.

In the corner of the room, the Dark Commander stood. He was waiting for her, she realised.

‘Clarke! They’re chipped, like with ALIE!’

Her Mom was tied to the throne. Clarke felt her heart stutter, before she looked to Efana.

‘It’s okay. I know it isn’t you.’ Efana sobbed with relief, tears tracking down her cheeks as Clarke slowly looked to the corner.

 _‘Ready to listen yet, Klarke?’_ Sheidheda kept his hood up, but he did take a step forward, and Clarke looked to her friends. Bellamy’s helpless expression, Murphy’s confusion, the fear on the faces of all those that she cared about.

‘Release Efana, Sheidheda.’ She snapped, acknowledging him for the first time. Despite his hidden face, she knew he was smirking, lips drawing up as an echo of laughter sounded out.

 _‘Play the game.’_ The room, the Chess board, and the stakes now a lot higher than she ever suspected.

‘Clarke, we can’t…’ Gaia began, probably to tell her that Sheidheda could not be trusted.

‘I accept. I’ll play the game, but release Efana.’ The Warrior dropped, gasping for air as she tore at the leg of her trousers, to where the bite had been.

Clarke watched the chip emerge, before Echo snatched it from her and smashed it under her boot. All heads turned back to Clarke, who was thankful that a gun was no longer being pointed at Bellamy.

‘Do we have any way to get the chips out?’ She asked Raven, the mechanic faltering.

‘A kill switch could be activated…’

‘No! Half of Wonkru might be chipped!’ Kane protested, while Clarke kept an eye on the approaching Dark Commander.

‘Take Mom down through to the infirmary, bar the doors and windows. Find the kill switch code, and see if we have any other options.’ A kill switch would kill the host, and Clarke knew that.

‘What are you going to do?’ Raven asked, face flickering with concern. Clarke turned to face the Dark Commander, who reached for his hood slowly, revealing the pale face underneath.

‘Play a game of chess.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the one twist I always knew would be coming, sorry Efana! I do love her, but this was needed.


	34. Becoming Wanheda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's got a chess game, Murphy's not prepared to let her face it alone, and Raven's losing hope

‘Sit her still!’ Raven snapped, fingers moving faster over the keyboard as Bellamy gripped Abby’s shoulders apologetically. The woman snarled, fighting with a strength he hadn't known she’d possessed. Kane was on the other side, trying to tighten the chains around her. The infirmary was dark, Echo and Octavia working to board up the windows.

Glass shattered, Octavia knocking Echo out of the way as the blade came sailing down. Bellamy reached for his gun, but Emori was quicker. From her position in the doorway, she shot the Grounder before he could approach.

A killing shot. Bellamy winced, but he couldn’t feel too bad about it. Had Emori not shot him, the Grounder would have reached Octavia.

The window was boarded up, Emori holding the planks while Octavia hit them with the butt of her gun.

‘Any idea how many chips there were in the box?’ Raven asked, looking to where Efana was seated. Her eyes were cast down, a hand over her stomach, and Bellamy felt sorry for her. Not many of the group had looked at her since the betrayal, Brell had gone as far as to shove her.

‘At least three hundred.’ Efana answered, clasping her hands together and rocking back slightly. Afraid, but she needn’t be. He wasn’t angry with her, he knew the power these chips could have.

‘I don’t get it!’ Raven banged her hands down onto the table, startling all of them. Bellamy left Kane to hold Abby, who had fallen still, moving to his friend’s side.

‘What’s up?’

‘I can’t access the controls. I could kill the connection between hosts and coding…’ But that would kill the hosts. Bellamy glanced to the chip that she was experimenting on, the one that had been smashed, and then to the wires that connected to Abby.

‘What about Clarke’s chip? Would it be the same?’

‘No. It’s on a different server, changing that would take longer. Plus, I’d need Clarke to tell us where Sheidheda was.’ He didn’t like it, not one little bit. Upstairs, Clarke was sitting on her throne with a madman inside her head, fighting to keep control of her own mind.

Without her, who would make the decisions?

‘Guys…’ Monty came skidding into the room, flushed and panting, and Bellamy knew his night was only going to get worse.

‘They’re burning down the Clan houses. With the people inside.’

**

Murphy nodded his head to Bellamy as the man appeared, rushing over to the window to see what they could all see. Outside, screaming was echoing out across the clearing. People being murdered, killed by their own kind, and they could do nothing.

‘We need a plan.’ Brell stated, glancing across to Clarke.

The Commander’s eyes were open, glazed over and unfocused, hands gripping her throne like it was her tether to this world. She had been like this for a while now, caught up in whatever battle was going on inside her head. The only signs of the strain that it must be causing was the blood that was leaking from one of her ears.

‘We’ve got the kill switch. Tearing the chips out would cause the same effect, we have no way to save them!’ Murphy knew what they needed. Clarke, Wanheda, whoever she became when she made the decision that none of them could.

‘If we don’t hit the switch, then Wonkru will die.’ Indra stated firmly, while Gaia sobbed into her hands. Something about Sheidheda, about the pain.

Murphy paused, an idea forming in his mind that he was sure Clarke wouldn’t approve of.

‘Bellamy, ask Raven if she can make a chip that would give us the ability to see what Clarke can see, without being under the control of Sheidheda.’ He looked torn, between running back to the infirmary, and going to Clarke. Maybe, once this was over, it would be the push needed for him to tell Clarke about his feelings for her.

‘John…’ Emori’s eyes had widened, but he moved across to her side before she could express doubt. He pulled her away from the group, so that he could duck his head to hers.

‘It’s Clarke. We need her, nobody else has the strength to make that decision.’ Her fingers laced with his, panic on her features, and Murphy hated it.

He was supposed to be the bad guy. The one that did everything for entirely selfish reasons, apart from when it came to Emori. Hell, he’d have sold out most of the people in the room, if it could benefit him.

But this was Clarke.

‘I can’t lose you.’ She whispered, none of the fierce warrior that he knew she could be. Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed them briefly.

‘You won’t. You know me, I don’t die.’ Her lips twitched into a smile, before she nodded.

‘Keep Clarke safe. Bring her back to us.’ What had he done, to deserve a woman like Emori? He would think of that later, for now, he settled for kissing her quickly. Her smile lasted for a moment longer, before Bellamy was shouting for him.

‘It’s show time.’

**

_‘It’s been a while since I’ve had a worthy opponent.’ Klarke ignored the words, watched as the rook was moved forwards. Already, she’d lost pawns that she needed, just because her mind was torn between the real world and what was going on inside her head._

_‘You won’t win.’ She simply said, her fingers drifting to the bishop. Her eyes scanned the board, trying to remember all she’d been taught about the game. Her Dad had taught it to her first, then she’d played with Wells. After, when they’d landed, she rarely had the chance. Lexa knew how to play, but that had only happened a couple of times._

_Kane was the only other person she’d faced, because his mind was quick enough to process the strategy behind the game._

_‘I have the advantage, Wanheda. The pieces, the players. The ability to play your emotions.’ Her Mom was chipped. Klarke remembered her time in with ALIE, remembered watching her Mom hang. To save her people, she’d been willing to do anything._

_Wanheda. Her name, gifted by people that saw her as the Commander of Death. She’d hated that name from the moment she’d been given it, hated what people thought when they heard it. Calling herself it, in Lexa’s throne room after the events of Mount Weather, it had been the first moment she had considered taking a knife to her skin._

_But Wanheda wasn’t an insult. Nor was it a compliment. It was whatever Klarke made it, and it was time she started using her title._

_She wouldn’t let Wonkru burn. Especially when she should have burned those chips, the moment she’d found them._

_‘You underestimate them.’ She swiped his pawn from the board, the Dark Commander leaning back in his seat. Amused, she gathered._

_‘Your mechanic is struggling, the village is on fire. Even your lover is losing patience.’ Strange, it didn’t even take her a moment to know who he was talking about. She shook the thought away, focused back on the board._

_‘I have faith in them.’ She winced as her bishop was snatched from the board, a careless mistake because of the mention of Bellamy. Why was she so afraid of what he’d think of her, acting like this? Becoming Wanheda?_

_‘It appears they also have faith in you.’ Sheidheda, despite the fact that his eyes were sewn shut, was looking over her shoulder. Klarke did the same, peering back to find Murphy standing in the room._

_‘Murphy?’ He looked to the chessboard, then up to Sheidheda._

_‘Clarke, we need you. Raven’s found a kill-switch, but…’ Sheidheda moved, reaching out for Murphy like he’d strike him down. Klarke shouted, reached out to try and save her friend, but she had no need to panic._

_Sheidheda moved straight through Murphy, leaving the man staring at Klarke._

_‘How did you…’_

_‘Wanheda!’ Murphy interrupted her musings, one word snatching her from her rambling. In his eyes, the pity that he felt, because he knew what Klarke would have to do._

_‘I’m coming.’ She promised, watched as he vanished, before she looked back to the chessboard._

_‘Make your move, Klarke.’_

**

Murphy gasped, felt hands on his shoulders as he pulled himself from the room. Emori was staring at him in concern, but he pulled himself up. Clarke woke a second later, but hers was a lot more gentle. She blinked, eyes darting over to him, before she was engulfed by a very protective Bellamy.

‘Everything okay?’ Emori murmured, one hand stroking through his hair. The comfort was appreciated, especially after what he’d seen. Sheidheda radiated a darkness that was almost suffocating, he had no idea how Clarke handled it.

‘We’re good.’ Murphy stood, watched as Bellamy stepped back from Clarke. His hands were still cradling her face, and she looked rather shocked by the affection, still oblivious to his pursuits.

‘Clarke.’ He broke in yet again, not daring to use the name he knew she needed. The Commander nodded, gestured to the infirmary.

‘Come on.’

**

 _‘You see, the difference between us is that I have the strength to do what’s needed.’_ Clarke ignored the man currently occupying part of her brain, stepping into the infirmary and looking around. In one of the beds, her Mom had been tied down. Cords were attached to different screens, Raven slumped at one of them with a look of permanent exhaustion.

Clarke went to her first, lay a hand on her shoulder and then wrapped arms around the mechanic when she slumped.

‘I can’t… I tried, it’s difficult to try and…’

‘I know. It’s okay.’

‘Commander, what are your orders?’ Indra brought them back on topic, Clarke looking down to the switch that Raven had engineered. Funny, she hadn't actually expected it to be a button. What was it with buttons and levers, objects that stripped away Clarke’s defences and left her so open?

 _‘A foolish mistake, Klarke.’_ She watched as her rook was taken from the board, before reaching for the Knight. It was time to move the game onwards, because they didn’t have time left. She snatched his bishop, knowing that she’d move into his trap. Luckily, Clarke had learned from the best.

‘The Village?’ She asked, turning to Brell.

‘We could try and put the fire out, but we don’t know how many people are chipped.’

A burning Village, with hundreds trapped.

 _‘How many are there?’_ She said the words aloud, but looked to Sheidheda as she spoke. Murphy winced, raising a hand to his nose, looking startled when it came back red. She felt bad, he had done all of this just for her, so that she wouldn’t feel alone.

But she had, for five years.

_‘Too many for even you, Wanheda.’_

But her Mom was one of them.

‘Commander, I hate to press you…’ Indra’s voice was calm, but Clarke noticed that the others had fallen silent. They knew, it seemed, that she’d have a decision to make that was impossible. To condemn people to death, including her own Mother, or risk the entire Village.

She couldn’t let them make that decision. It would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

 _‘Check.’_ Sheidheda sat back in his chair, amused, and Clarke swallowed.

She screwed her eyes shut, called on every last ounce of strength, and when she heard Murphy’s gasp, she knew it had worked.

Lexa’s smile was the first thing she saw, Clarke looking at the Commander as she took a step closer. Behind her, Bekka was standing in the room, peering down at Raven. Impressed, perhaps, that she had managed to break through the coding.

There were others in the room. Women and men, the Commanders of the Ground, the hosts of the Flame.

‘Murphy?’ Bellamy asked, because he was reaching out to try and poke one of them, like he couldn’t quite believe they were there. He whispered the word, Commanders, drawing a silence from those in the room. Clarke pushed them away, focused on what her mind was showing her, on those that she needed.

 _‘You’re not alone anymore, Clarke. You don’t have to do this alone.’_ Lexa’s hand reached out, taking Clarke’s and brushing a thumb over her knuckles. Impossible, but then again, she was currently having a game of Chess inside her own mind.

 _‘We’re right by your side, Commander.’_ Bekka Pramheda agreed, moving towards the table. Clarke looked to the switch, picking up the small box, then looking to the Commanders that filled the room. Kane said her name, and Clarke knew he was thinking of Abby.

‘You’ll stay with me?’

 _‘Always.’_ Lexa’s hand was first, followed by Bekka’s. The Commanders moved to her side, hands hovering over the button, before the final hand came to rest over hers.

Murphy’s was the only hand that was warm, eyes on hers.

‘Like they said, I’m with you till the end. Team Cockroach, Wanheda.’

A laugh filled the room, startling the two of them as they looked back. Abby, her eyes focused on them, but Clarke could see the darkness.

‘Touching. You really have the guts to kill your own Mother, _Klarke_?’ It was Abby’s voice, even if Sheidheda was using it. It had the dangerous lilt, the mocking tone that was echoing as Sheidheda laughed. The chessboard was seated between them, and Clarke grinned.

Inside her mind, she moved the Queen to her final position, blocking the Rook that would have taken the King, while simultaneously putting herself into her last move.

‘Checkmate.’

Her finger pressed down on the button.


	35. A Battle of Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's got someone else taking control of her mind, Raven's a brilliant mechanic, and Murphy recognises someone's fighting style

_‘No!’_ Clarke ignored the scream that echoed inside her head, dropping the button and abandoning the Commanders in favour of running to her Mom’s side.

She knew what would happen, when she pressed the button.

She’d done it anyway. Abby’s body arched up, like an electric current was racing through her system, eyes rolling back while Clarke reached for her. It was painful to watch, she could hear Raven sobbing into somebody’s shoulder, could feel Kane’s stare on the back of her head.

‘C-clarke.’ Croaked out, hoarse as her hands tightened into the bedding beneath her, and Clarke cradled her cheeks. Blood was already seeping from her nose, out of her ears and down the side of her neck, the chip severing ties with the nervous system but simultaneously ruining her mind.

‘Shh, that’s it. You’re okay, you’re going to be fine.’ Clarke soothed, brushing away the tears that strayed down Abby’s cheeks, mixing with the sticky blood that was staining her hands.

When she fell still, when her body finally stopped shuddering, Clarke figured this was why she was Wanheda. This was what made her different, from all the others in the room.

She was the Commander of Death, and so it no longer felt painful to lose those that she loved. It was just numbness, staring down at her Mom and into the hazy eyes that were focused on the ceiling.

_‘That was a bad move, Klarke.’_

Now, just one more thing to deal with.

**

Murphy had heard the scream inside his own head, listened as Sheidheda’s anger bubbled over. It was why he expected it, when Clarke’s body crumpled, reaching out to catch the Commander before she could hit the floor. Wherever she’d gone, it was back into the space where he had last found her.

‘Raven.’ The mechanic was crying. He understood why, she had been close to Abby, but they had a bigger issue. Nobody stood in his way as he lifted Clarke onto one of the beds, turning to Bellamy.

‘We need to go in after her. Taking the Flame out isn’t going to work.’ If there was anybody that would understand the urgency in his tone, it was the man that loved Clarke. Sure enough, Bellamy rushed to his side, taking Clarke’s bloodstained hand in his own.

‘What do we do?’

‘We need the chips. If we can copy the coding of the Flame, we could go in after her. Finish of Sheidheda, and get Clarke back.’ Beneath him, Clarke’s nose had begun to bleed, black blood staining her pale skin.

Raven snapped back into it, ordered Brell to get her chips from those that had them. Murphy carefully rolled Clarke over, knowing she’d need to be hooked up to the cords.

‘If we do this… who’s going?’ Raven couldn’t, she was needed on the mainframe.

‘I am.’ Bellamy stated, without a single heartbeat of hesitation. His hands were still on Clarke, trying to comfort despite the fact she couldn’t feel it.

‘I’ve got a chip already.’ Murphy added, determined not to leave Clarke trapped in her own mind. If there was one thing that she didn’t deserve, it was that.

‘I’ll come. You might need a Warrior.’ Octavia stepped forward, face determined. Bellamy didn’t argue, proof enough that he was terrified for Clarke.

‘Get on the beds. Monty, can you…’ Raven trailed off, Monty taking over and reaching for the cords.

If they were going in after Clarke, they’d need to be quick.

‘Remember, one mind isn’t supposed to be able to hold all these consciousnesses. Clarke’s mind will fry, if you take too long.’

He had to go and pick the one person who kept getting into life threatening situations to befriend, didn’t he. Had to walk into danger, just to try and get Clarke safe.

‘I’ll hook one of you up to the screen. It should mean we can communicate, and see what you see.’ Bellamy offered, but Raven explained it would be easier to do it with Murphy’s chip. He looked around the room, studying all those that were in the infirmary.

If they were about to travel into the Flame, into Clarke’s mind, all these people would be able to see it. Murphy wasn’t a fool, he figured it was going to be dangerous.

‘If you die in there…’

‘We die in real life. Got it.’ Octavia grinned, shot a thumbs up to her brother, before settling back onto the bed. Murphy did the same, shooting Emori one last look, before allowing Monty to start prodding.

‘You’ll feel a small pinch.’ He yelped, because it was a lie, it felt like a very big pinch.

‘Liar.’ He grumbled, Monty daring to smile.

‘Go and get her back.’ He murmured, while Murphy wondered how Clarke had managed to inspire such loyalty. No, he knew the answer to that.

It was Clarke.

And they were Team Cockroach.

**

_‘Tell me, Wanheda, did you really think that was winning?’ Klarke grinned, raising her head and spitting the blood as hard as she could. It didn’t quite reach, hitting the ground just before his feet, but it got the point across. Sheidheda did not look impressed, his features tightening as he tried to school his rage._

_‘It is. Because the chips are gone, and Wonkru is safe.’ And she’d killed three-hundred and twenty-one of her people, her own Mom included. Klarke ignored the pain, instead focused on the room around her, the isolation cell that she had been stored in on the Ark. Solitary confinement, a place where she’d been left to stew after losing her Father._

_The only thing that remained from the room before, was the chessboard. It had been tipped to the floor, the pieces scattered across her cell. The King, her King, broken under Sheidheda’s foot as he stepped towards her._

_‘But you’re left, trapped in your own mind.’ He gestured around them, to the place he was currently controlling. Far too strong, and Klarke could already tell there shouldn’t be two of them in here. Her mind couldn’t survive this._

_‘I saved my people.’ Not all of them._

_‘Oh, Wanheda, we could have been friends.’ He mocked, stepping forward to admire where her hands were bound, before looking around the room. Sketches across the walls, her memories, and he had access to them._

_‘We have a lifetime of pain ahead of us, Klarke.’ She’d done so many bad things in her life, things that would drive a normal person insane. So much blood on her hands, it felt like she could drown in it. It would be one hell of a way to die, she thought, remembering how her Mom had looked at her in that last moment. Knowing Klarke had killed her, that she was dying._

_‘Better get on with it then.’_

_**_

‘Any idea… oh.’ Murphy cut off the question, looking behind him to the wall of fire racing in their direction. It stretched far higher than anything he’d seen, like a wave that was swallowing up the trees around them. Bellamy and Octavia seemed to be understanding as well, staring at Praimfaya as it approached.

Waking up in Clarke’s mind was not something Murphy had ever thought he would be doing. Worse, it felt… real. The air was warm against his skin, the ground underfoot crunching as he looked to the inferno racing towards them.

‘I think we should be running.’ Murphy provided, the Blake siblings agreeing. A voice filtered through, sounding suspiciously like Raven.

‘To Bekka’s lab! Go!’ They did, Murphy turning tail and running as fast as he could. There was no suit this time, just his usual clothing as he sprinted through the trees. By his side, Bellamy and Octavia, hand in hand as they dragged each other towards the lab.

The door was as he remembered it, wide open as they approached it. The heat was becoming unbearable, but luckily, there was none of the radiation that he knew had burned Clarke. She’d tripped at this point, smashing the glass and having to pull herself back up.

They didn’t have the same setback. Murphy was the first into the tunnel, turning to grab the door, only for the scene to shift.

It was a room. Four white walls, one with a door, lights that were far too bright. A cell, if he had to take a guess, blinking down at his now-plain white clothing.

‘Mount Weather.’ Bellamy murmured, and Murphy could have groaned. Clarke’s mind was complex, but of course it would be a repeat of all the bad things. Typical Clarke. He took a step towards the door, only for a person to appear in front of it.

Maya. Her skin was blistered, a sour smile on her face as she studied them.

‘You’re not Clarke.’ Bellamy opened his mouth, then shut it, while Murphy pushed past the girl and threw the door open. If this was how her mind worked, each door opening something different, then he had to hope the next step was better than Mount Weather.

Bellamy and Octavia followed, the trio stepping out once more, leaving the dead girl behind.

It was familiar. The dark grey, the steel contraption that was the Ark, with the airlock chamber in front. Murphy could have recognised the Ark anywhere, it was the kind of place that you couldn’t forget. Going back up to it for those five years had been painful enough, without coming back now.

‘The Ark?’ Octavia questioned, tensing up. Of course, she’d been a sibling in a place where such a thing was illegal, and Murphy watched as Bellamy shifted towards her protectively.

‘Who’s he?’ Murphy asked, gesturing to the man in the airlock. Middle-aged, relatively neat clothing. Stubble, hair unkept, and eyes that were red-rimmed.

‘Jake Griffin.’ Kane’s voice filtered through, presumably stealing the microphone from Raven, and Murphy winced.

Clarke’s Father turned to look at them, before the door behind him was opened. Octavia and Bellamy both ducked their heads away from the sight, while Murphy watched as the man was sucked out into space.

‘Clarke sure knows how to pick her memories.’ He grumbled, before turning to find two of the Ark Guards standing in the corridor. Typical uniform, weapons at their side, faces’ stone cold as they looked straight at them.

‘Prisoner 319, stand down.’ He hadn't been prisoner 319, but he presumed that was Clarke. The guards reached for their belts, for the tasers, and Murphy reached for his belt.

Only to find a significant lack of weapons. No gun, no knives, nothing. He was dressed in his normal clothes again, but with no weapon…

‘Shit.’ Octavia was getting ready to fight, Bellamy raising his fists while Murphy was too busy cursing Clarke’s mind.

Until he spotted a third person, a figure hidden by clothes with a sword glinting in their hands.

The blade sliced through the first man, his body dropping as the cloaked-figure turned to the second, avoiding the taser that went flying in their direction and kicking out. His head went rolling shortly after, when the sword was brought down in a familiar motion, and Murphy grinned.

He should have known that this would happen. Clarke would never give up every bit of hope, after all. It was the thing that they had in common, what made them so difficult to kill.

‘Should I say thank you, Lexa?’ The Commander removed her hood, Lexa of Trikru studying him for a moment, before sheathing her sword. Nice to see that they were still at the “reluctant allies” stage of the relationship.

‘Come quickly, Clarke doesn’t have long.’

**

_‘What about this one?’ Sheidheda questioned, Klarke crying out as yet another memory was torn from her mind. Images flickered in front of her, of Jasper cradling Maya gently, the people of Mount Weather blistered and boiled from the radiation. That was what she had done, killing all those innocent people just because they threatened her existence._

_‘You see, Wanheda, death seems to follow you.’ They were back in the cell, Klarke swinging from the ropes that bound her wrists, drawing her lips back into a snarl._

_‘Do you want to know how many would have died, if you hadn't pressed the button?’ Klarke struggled in the constraints, she couldn’t know. If it had been for nothing, if she had killed all those people and it wasn’t to save her people…_

_‘Eight-hundred and seventy-two.’ She felt sick, the moment the flood of relief came in. The Commander should be mourning for her people, but all she could focus on was the fact that she’d picked the option with the less death._

_She’d killed hundreds, and Klarke felt liberation._

_‘How did you know that?’ She questioned, swallowing bile and focusing on the Dark Commander. He paused in his movements, sewn-lips drawing back into a smirk._

_‘I could teach you so much, Klarke.’ For all her curiosity, for the demanding need to know how he had become so… clever, she was not going to be lulled into a sense of security. She’d killed people, to protect Wonkru. To protect her friends, she’d given up everything._

_She wasn’t going to join forces with Sheidheda, no matter what happened._

_‘This is my mind.’ It was, but she no longer had control. Sheidheda could command the room to his will, could shape her memories and twist things into pain, like the dagger that he’d summoned to his hand as soon as he’d seen that Klarke was not going to listen._

_‘Not for much longer.’ He replied calmly, bringing the blade down to her collarbone._

_Klarke screamed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping that cleared up the confusion with what chips did what?


	36. Inside Clarke's mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Sheidheda are getting to know each other, Murphy's with the Blake siblings, and a flashback has them all a little shocked

The corridors of the Ark blended together as Murphy followed Lexa, the Blake siblings in step behind him. The Commander reached for her belt, pulling a gun free and handing it across to Murphy.

‘Glad to see we’re on trusting terms.’ He snarked, Lexa studying him with that usual-emotionless expression. She was dressed in leathers, although the forehead piece was missing, with the familiar paint around her eyes.

‘Last time I saw you, I died.’ She pointed out, while Murphy shrugged. What had happened in that room in Polis had stayed between him and Clarke, for the most part. She’d told the radio a little about it, just enough for the others to know.

‘How do you know your way around this place?’ Octavia asked, as they ducked into yet another corridor. The Commander reached a door, fingers stretching for the handle.

‘It’s Clarke’s mind. The Flame belongs here.’ The door opened to reveal the throne room in Polis, full of people that Murphy recognised from moments before Clarke pressed the button.

‘Who are…’

‘The Commanders.’ Murphy cut in, staring at Bekka first. She came across to him, smiling at Murphy first, then nodding to the Blake siblings.

‘We were kicked out of Clarke’s mind-space by Sheidheda, now we’re trying to break back in.’ Murphy followed her lead, stepping towards the table they were all staring at. A large map was laid out, a series of sketched rooms that he scanned over.

The main section was the Ark. It wrapped around most of the other spaces, linking them all together. There was Praimfaya, the first place they had entered. Then Mount Weather, which was close to Polis, where they currently stood.

‘You’re lucky. If you’d entered ALIE’s space, I don’t think I could have come in after you.’ Lexa tapped the map, right where ALIE sat.

‘This time, Abby wasn’t as lucky.’ Murphy’s musings drew some confused glances from the Blake siblings and Raven’s voice filtering through.

Lexa, however, nodded.

‘Clarke had always been ready to make that sacrifice.’

‘Can somebody explain?’ Bellamy snapped, looking between them. Murphy figured that he must be finding it slightly difficult, to be in the same room as Lexa. He shouldn’t fear, Clarke knew that Lexa was dead. That had been pretty clear, the moment the Commander bled out in Clarke’s arms.

‘When chipped, Abby hung herself as one of her many methods to torture Clarke. It didn’t work.’ The casual mention of torture left the Blake siblings quiet, but Murphy knew about that bit. Not in great detail, he just knew enough to understand that they should avoid that part.

‘So, where’s Clarke?’

‘Solitary confinement. Sheidheda’s with her, and we can’t get any closer that the outer corridors. We need someone with a strong connection to Clarke to break through.’ Bekka pointed, even if there was no need. Murphy knew where the cell was.

‘Strong connection?’ Octavia questioned, eyes studying the different routes.

‘It’s Clarke’s mind, and if we can remind her of that, give her enough energy, she might be able to hold back Sheidheda’s power for long enough.’ Murphy didn’t know the name of the Commander that spoke, a man that seemed defensive over Clarke. In fact, they all did.

‘Long enough for us to kill him.’ Lexa finished.

‘What’s the plan?’ Bellamy asked, staring right at Lexa. The Commander slowly smiled, a smile that was cold.

‘Storm the room, pin down Sheidheda, while we free Clarke.’ There were so many things that could go wrong with that plan, which was why he approved.

‘Well, this should be fun.’

**

_‘Wanheda.’ Klarke blinked, forcing her eyes to focus on the change of scenery around them. They were still in the solitary confinement cell, just with a memory currently playing. It was the forest, she realised. After Praimfaya, once she’d found the Shallow Valley, she’d spent most of time living within the trees._

_It was also where she’d pressed a gun to her temple._

_‘You know how to stop your reign of death, Wanheda.’ That name, repeating itself over and over._

_She’d felt free, the moment she found out she’d made the right decision. But it still ached, the knowledge that she’d let so many of her people down. And, like a coward, she’d fled their responses to her actions._

_Bellamy wouldn’t ever look at her again._

_In this forest, she was unbound. She moved towards the tree, to the satchel that she knew would be seated at the bottom. Inside, the same smooth-textured gun that she’d grown used to. The one that Murphy had handed her back._

_‘One shot could save hundreds. That’s all you’ve got left, Klarke.’ She turned it over in her hand, before looking around for Sheidheda. He wasn’t with her, even if his voice lingered inside her mind, so there was no way to shoot him._

_‘In fact, you’ve killed more people than the number of those left on earth.’ She grimaced, checking to see how many bullets she had left._

_One._

_‘One shot, Klarke.’ For some reason, even though it hurt, her mind provided her with the moment she’d pushed the button. With Murphy’s hand over hers, with Lexa’s firm smile etched into her memories every time she shut her eyes._

_‘Not yet.’_

**

‘I’m sorry?’ Murphy was a little shocked as well, stared at the Commander, then back to Bellamy.

‘I said you’ll need this, if you’re going to go to Clarke.’ Lexa repeated, offering out her knife. The one that she always had on her, the one that rarely left her side. Murphy stared at the exchange, then to Octavia, who looked just as confused.

‘I thought… I thought you would be going to her.’ Bellamy took the knife, however.

‘She’s your Clarke, not mine.’ Lexa simply stated, turning to Murphy.

‘Don’t get in the way.’ He mockingly bowed to the Commander, who turned back to the others.

They were ready.

Leaving the room of Polis, they headed back into the endless labyrinth that was Clarke’s mind. The Commanders led the way, with the Blake siblings flanking Murphy’s sides. Steel-grey architecture informed him that they were back in the Ark, moving around successfully as they headed towards the prison.

Until he halted.

A door, perfectly ordinary, apart from the fact it was calling to him. He couldn’t move away, staring at the door and becoming slightly worried when his heartrate picked up. It was like his body knew what was behind the door, what was going to happen if he opened that door.

‘Murphy?’ Bellamy questioned, the Commanders halting at the name.

‘Just… I just need to see.’ He ignored the Blake siblings, gripping the handle and throwing the door open.

**

_Klarke grimaced as the scene changed so rapidly that she knew Sheidheda’s control had slipped momentarily._

_This scene was one she hadn't expected to see. It was after the City of Light, when her and Murphy finally decided that being friends was a better idea than anything else. Enemies took too much effort, plus, they had a habit of both ending up being the bad guys._

_Murphy was seated on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling down, just as she remembered. Before Klarke could wonder what was going on, she watched herself appear. The moment Murphy spotted her, he rose up to his feet._

_Strange, why would this memory appear now?_

**

**_‘Murphy.’_ **

**_‘Clarke.’_ **

**_The greetings weren’t cold, neither warm. Two people that had lost so much, that were willing to do anything to work for the future._ **

**_‘What was is like, for you?’ Clarke questioned, stepping up to his side. Murphy shrugged, gesturing to the open air in front._ **

**_‘I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. You think it was good?’ She chuckled, which earned her a confused look from Murphy._ **

**_‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Murphy. You’re on the good side.’_ **

**_‘This time.’ He corrected, to which Clarke nudged his shoulder._ **

**_‘Emori’s pretty.’ Murphy rolled his eyes, although a fond smile did cross his face._ **

**_‘Is this you convincing me not to take a step forward?’_ **

**_‘If anyone should, I think it might be me.’ Clarke peered over the edge, staring down into the forest with a slight frown._ **

**_‘Jasper doesn’t mean it.’_ **

**_‘He should. I killed all those people in Mount Weather. The Grounders before them. I almost…’ Clarke cut herself off, but Murphy was patient. Waited, until she was ready to continue._ **

**_‘I almost killed my own Mom, just to save the rest of us.’ Murphy stared at her for a moment, before looking back out across the space before them. A comfortable silence fell, the two of them relaxing in the knowledge they weren’t alone._ **

**_‘Nobody will tell you this, Clarke, but the others wished they had the guts to do what you do. To make the tough decisions, to be a Leader.’ She snorted, tears tracking down her cheeks as she tried to stop it._ **

**_‘Then why does it feel like shit?’ That had Murphy laughing as well, even if it was brief._ **

**_‘Because you have to live with it.’ The two of them wouldn’t be missed, not this evening. They all had so much to worry about, they wouldn’t miss Clarke and Murphy._ **

**_‘If we stepped forward, do you think they’d be safe?’ Clarke questioned. She took a half-pace, just enough so that her toes were hovering over the edge. He didn’t stop her, in fact, he matched her movement. Two people, both on the edge of something that they couldn’t come back from._ **

**_‘I think we’d make a mess of the floor below.’ When Clarke didn’t reply, he decided to push a little further._ **

**_‘What did you see, in the City of Light? What’s got you so miserable?’ It hit the problem dead on, Clarke wincing._ **

**_‘Lexa.’ Ah. Murphy paused, knowing he’d never live this down, glad nobody else could see. He reached for her hand carefully, linked their fingers together._ **

**_Clarke glanced down, surprised._ **

**_‘I’d really hate to explain to Bellamy why you’re splattered on the bottom of a cliff.’ He remarked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly._ **

**_Clarke took a step away from the ledge, and when Murphy was sure she wouldn’t do anything stupid, he released the grip._ **

**_‘Look at the two of us. Both having meaningful conversations.’ The two of them laughed, before settling into silence._ **

**_Peace._ **

**

_Klarke watched the memory fade, a smile on her face as Sheidheda reappeared. He looked annoyed, face drawn into a tight-expression, hand still wrapped around the dagger._

_‘It appears everyone wants to be in your mind today, Klarke.’ She didn’t question what he meant, too busy remembering that moment with Murphy. It happened such a long time ago, she’d never even considered it since._

_The moment they both decided to live, rather than stepping over the ledge._

_‘If I can’t have your mind, Klarke, I’m fully willing to kill the rest of them. Even your precious lover.’ Her mind was torn, wondering who exactly he was referring to._

_Lexa, surely._

_But was it Bellamy? For some reason, his name had popped up at the same time. They were close, she supposed. Close, like lovers might be, apart from the fact they hadn't crossed over that line. Probably because Klarke knew that he would be horrified of what she had done, of the monster she had become when she’d first killed a man._

_What had she said to Lexa? Soaked in grounder blood._

**

‘You never told us about that.’

‘Do we really have to do this now?’ Murphy shot back, startled by what he’d seen. Sure, he remembered that conversation with Clarke. In fact, it was the moment where he finally respected her as not only a leader, but a friend.

He just didn’t think it had been that important to her. Not for it to have its own room, preserved in her mind. Plus, now they’d all seen it. Even Lexa, who had dragged him out of the room at the end and told him to hurry up.

‘She trusts you.’ Bellamy sounded… jealous. It didn’t suit him, especially not when the only thing he had to be jealous of was the fact that they’d bonded over their almost-suicidal minds.

‘Quit the pity party.’ Octavia clipped them both over the ears, then reached for the weapon Lexa had given her. Murphy shut up, mostly because they had reached Clarke’s cell, Lexa reaching out for the handle and giving a nod to the rest of them.

‘On three.’ They were really about to face the most dangerous of all the Commanders, all because of one woman.

‘Three.’ Then again, it was Clarke.

‘Two.’ Or Wanheda. Murphy was still trying to piece together the puzzle in his mind.

‘One.’

Lexa threw the door open, and Murphy reached back for his gun.

After all, it didn’t hurt to be safe.


	37. Wanheda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke just needed a little reassurance

‘Bellamy!’ That snapped him back out of the daze he was in, Lexa’s voice breaking through the fog and urging him onwards. The room was a mess of pencil sketches, of blood that dripped down onto the floor from where Clarke was currently hanging. Lexa and the other Commanders were approaching Sheidheda, who looked perfectly calm at the oncoming attack, while Murphy stuck to the door. Watching, letting Raven see what was happening.

Octavia was by his side, rushing to Clarke the moment the door opened.

‘Clarke!’ She looked… awful. Her eyes were open, flicking between the two of them in confusion, while Octavia cut the ropes.

‘S’it real?’ Bellamy caught her, winced when he felt how light she was. Clarke’s hands wandered over his torso for a moment, before she turned to Octavia and did the same, cupped her face and then moved her hands to her shoulders.

‘Yeah, but we need to get you out of here.’ Bellamy stated, wrapping an arm around her waist. Clarke was already looking across to where Sheidheda was fighting, a sword in each hand as he smoothly blocked the attacks.

He was using Clarke’s own mind against her.

‘Can you take control of it? Push him out?’ Octavia urged, prompted by Raven’s voice in their head, while Clarke’s fingers went to her own nose. It was bleeding, just as it had been in real life.

‘Can’t beat Sheidheda.’ Clarke mumbled tiredly, leaning back against Bellamy, before Murphy pushed in between them. He was a lot less gentle, gripped Clarke’s shoulders and shook her slightly, almost like a rag-doll.

‘You need to. C’mon Clarke, you’re the Commander! Wanheda.’ That name, it had Clarke tensing up for a moment, and Bellamy realised she was afraid of going back. Of waking up, knowing that she’d yet again made a decision that none of them could have.

Bellamy shoved Murphy out of the way, tilted Clarke’s chin up so she’d meet his eye.

‘We need you awake, Clarke. So be Wanheda, and save them. Save us.’ He added, knowing that Sheidheda would come for them once he had worked through the Commanders. Clarke startled, before her eyes flashed with determination, a stubbornness that he had come to respect.

**

Clarke wasn’t sure why there was a party going on inside her head. She also wasn’t sure if it was real, but Bellamy’s hands were on her skin, and that _felt_ real. When she turned, it was to the sight of Sheidheda shoving Bekka to the ground, Lexa rushing to the woman’s side to protect her from the blow.

This was Clarke’s mind, and she didn’t want to be in this cell for a moment longer.

Screwing her eyes shut, she focused on shifting the room around them. Pictured the bright sun, the sandy deserts that would have driven anyone insane. Endless miles of it, and when she opened her eyes, she was greeted with her version of Hell. The heat prickled at her skin, the sand shifted under her feet, and Sheidheda looked confused.

Clarke opened up her hand, grinned when her sword formed in it.

‘Klarke.’ Sheidheda greeted, studying her as she took a step forward. Just because she’d changed the situation, it didn’t mean he was any less of a threat. Taking him on single-handedly was a risk, but she wasn’t alone.

The Flame was in her head, and that meant the Commanders were with her. Although most were weak from the fight, slumped in the sand and staring at Sheidheda in fear, she could always rely on two of them to be by her side.

Lexa came to her right, Bekka to her left, both looking across at her.

‘Do we have a plan?’ Bekka inquired, to which Clarke nodded.

‘Get everyone back. Thirty paces, take the door that’ll appear.’

‘We’re not leaving you.’ Lexa argued, hand flexing around her sword.

‘If you don’t, you’ll burn.’ Clarke murmured quietly, the Commander falling silent. Realising her plan, she moved towards her friends, dragging them away despite Bellamy’s protests.

It was how it should always be, Clarke and the Dark Commander, standing in the sands and waiting for the others move.

Sheidheda’s move was to summon a gun to his hand, altering her mind-space as he pleased. The gun certainly was a threat, but Clarke had a better idea. She looked to the sky, pictured what she wanted to change, and let it do the rest.

The first couple of weeks after Praimfaya, the rain had burned so badly that she couldn’t move. She’d lie in the sands, let it wash over her skin. It was the only proof she had that water still existed somewhere, that there was enough for storms to form.

Sheidheda cried out, just as she’d expected, raising the gun and firing. Back in control of her mind, Clarke could stop a bullet simply be pleading for it to be gone, removing the weapon from his hand. She stalked through the rain, watched as Sheidheda dropped to his knees. The rain hissed off his skin, steam rising just as it would be on her own. It would leave her blotchy and burned, but Clarke had dealt with this for years.

‘Checkmate.’ Clarke simply stated, just as she had before, and rose the sword. He blindly reached out, raising his hand to stop it, face tilted to the sand to stop the rain.

‘Wait! Wait, I could show you so much, Klarke. I could bring them back, all of them. Lexa, your Mother, you could have…’ Clarke brought the sword down with both hands, aiming to separate his head from his shoulders.

It worked, tumbling to the ground as the rain slowly stopped, her mind able to control the weather of her mind-desert. Clarke turned back to the others, who came stumbling from the doorway. The Commanders were first, looking at the dead Sheidheda before staring at Clarke.

‘ _Reina kom Heda_.’ Lexa provided, a slight smile on her lips as she did so. It was repeated by Bekka, then by Callie, Maffei, the others copying the words. Clarke watched, mostly in confusion, as they dropped down to one knee in the sand.

Lexa was the last one to drop, doing so in the most graceful way possible, her sword driving into the sand.

‘ _Reina kom Heda_.’ Queen of the Commanders. Clarke looked down to Sheidheda, then past the Commanders to her friends.

Queen of the Commanders.

‘We need to get out of here.’ Murphy drawled out, looking thoroughly unbothered by the fact that Clarke was currently being bowed to.

‘Come, I’ll take you to the weakest point, it’ll be easier for you to wake.’ Lexa stated, drawing herself up.

**

Queen of the Commanders. Clarke said goodbye to each of them, knowing they would remain inside her mind as long as the Flame remained inside her head. With that thought in mind, she followed Lexa through her own mind, keeping close to Bellamy’s side as they walked.

‘Nice trick with the rain.’ Octavia complimented, Clarke grinning across at her friend. Murphy stayed silent, walking by their side as Lexa led them into a corridor lined with doors.

‘What is this place?’ Murphy questioned, staring at the doors.

‘We nicknamed it the Halls of the Dead. You’ve got quite an organised mind.’ Lexa stated, staring at the first door. Clarke stepped away from Bellamy to follow her gaze to the name-tag on the door, halting when she read it.

‘Clarke…’ Bellamy warned, but she had to see. Just a little look.

‘Just… one look. I promise, we won’t stay.’ Her own mind, preserving her memories even though she couldn’t see it. She reached for the handle, slowly pushing the door open and felt her chest tighten the moment she did.

**

_‘Come and sit down!’ Jake Griffin called, looking over the back of the sofa to where Abby was standing in kitchen. She laughed, mostly because his attention was right back on to the game, Jaha swearing under his breath as the goal was missed._

_‘Anyone would think this isn’t the eighth repeat of this match.’ Wells piped up, to which Jake chuckled._

_‘You sound like Clarke.’ That had Jaha leaning back in his chair, looking between the two of them._

_‘If my son grew up to be half the person your daughter is, I’d be impressed.’ Wells threw the empty wrapper of whatever he’d been eating at his Dad, Jake’s smile turning proud as he looked across to Clarke._

_Clarke, who was curled up on the last seat in the room, wrapped in a blanket with her eyes shut, asleep since the twenty-second minute of the game._

**

She shut the door just as gently as she’d opened it, lingering momentarily in holding the handle.

Putting them all in the same room, just so that she could preserve one of her fondest memories. She hadn't been sleeping at that moment, merely resting, listening to music through the headphones that she’d snuck back out of her Father’s draw.

‘Octavia…’ Bellamy seemed to be struggling with the fact that now Octavia had found a room, Clarke watching her fingers reach for the name-tag.

Lincoln.

‘Clarke, can I…’ Because it would be Clarke’s memories, not Octavia’s, but she still permitted it. A nod, Octavia opening and stepping inside the room, while Lexa waited patiently up ahead.

‘Any rooms you want to visit?’ Clarke questioned the other two, both of whom shook their heads. Too many people had been lost, and she supposed it was good to leave it that way. It was why Clarke was struggling to look at Lexa.

Murphy was eyeing her up strangely, and Clarke had come to suspect that the memory earlier had been his doing. How had they found that memory? It was one that Clarke kept close, thought about quite often over her five years in Hell. She didn’t mind Murphy seeing it, although they’d have to talk about it eventually.

When Octavia emerged, she looked happy. A smile on her face, coming to Clarke’s side to hug her briefly, before they were walking down the corridor.

There were a lot of names. Clarke spotted Finn’s, Jasper and Maya’s, Roan’s. Finally, when they were drawing close to the end of the corridor, Clarke reached the door she’d been fearing.

Lexa studied her nameplate, before looking back to Clarke.

‘This is where I leave you, Clarke.’ The Commander gave a smile, this one genuine. The same one she remembered from the moments they shared alone, brief but full of the love that they’d shared.

Clarke took a step forward, relaxed into Lexa’s touch when they gripped each other’s arm. A warrior’s farewell, more than she’d got last time.

‘ _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim_.’ She echoed the words, may we meet again, before Lexa reached back for her handle. Curiosity, or just wanting to live in the place where Clarke remembered her from?

One last smile, before the door opened, and Clarke got to look in. She caught sight of Murphy, tied to the chair, to the gun being fired at Clarke, who was scrambling from the bed.

To Lexa, stepping into the room.

The door slammed shut just as the gunshot echoed through the corridor, and Clarke felt her body tremble.

‘Ready?’ Bellamy’s voice was soft, and Clarke nodded. She stepped back, reaching out for his hand and linking their fingers together. Bellamy then turned to Octavia, who took his hand, and Clarke reached for Murphy.

‘Not a word of this, ever.’ He grumbled, before taking her hand, and they turned to the last door.

Of all the times she’d thought she would have to step into the light, this one was the most peaceful.


	38. Funerals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke wakes up from the battle with Sheidheda

Waking up was more painful than she’d expected. For one, there were cables hanging from her form that Monty’s hands were trying to do as she struggled against them, trying to figure out if she could feel all of her muscles. When he finished untethering her from Raven’s machine, Clarke rolled out of bed and made it to the sink in time to bring up bile, wincing when it came out as black blood in the white basin.

The others were waking, Emori calling Murphy’s name while Bellamy was aided by Raven, Echo and Harper going to Octavia.

Clarke wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, before looking to the nearest bed.

To her Mom, who someone had covered with a white sheet. Brell was talking, something about Wonkru collecting the dead, wanting to know what had happened to Sheidheda. Clarke moved, almost as if she were in a trance, to the edge of the bed.

She’d spent a long time trying to protect everyone. But, ultimately, she’d failed. Her Mom was dead, and even as Clarke reached out for her hand, she knew it would be cold. The skin was rough, the fingers unresponsive as she curled her own around them, eyes thankfully shut.

‘We don’t yet know the total count…’

‘Three-hundred and twenty-one.’ Clarke cut in, studying the way Abby’s hair framed her face, sticking in the blood that had leaked out as Clarke severed the cord. That was her doing, and she knew how painful it must have been.

‘Your orders, Commander?’ Brell’s tone was gentle, like she was trying to respect Clarke’s need for a moment with her Mom.

‘Spread the word that Sheidheda is dead.’

**

She went to each one. It took her the rest of that night, and the entire next day, to go to each Clan and apologise for the loss of their people. To tell the story of how Sheidheda had played them, and that he was no longer a threat. That the previous Commanders had helped her defeat the Dark Commander, and that she would keep them safe from now on.

Strangely, Wonkru did not seem to hate her. In fact, she heard the whispers that started up, naming her as the “Light Commander”, the one to destroy the darkness. That, combined with the title Lexa had given her, spread like wildfire among the people. Clarke didn’t mind the nicknames, it was certainly nicer to hear than Wanheda.

After she’d helped put out the fires, she summoned her Pride to the Village to begin in assisting repairs. They had three-hundred and twenty-one people to burn, wrapped and collected into a massive pyre just outside the village. Clarke helped move the bodies, careful to respect the traditions of each Clan, spending the time to speak to the families.

This was her legacy, a reign of death. She’d have to work hard to put all of that behind her, to make the people see that she was worthy.

Joshua and Liam were safe, and luckily, their family had remained mostly untouched by the chips. Erik and the other Councillors were alive, as were the cousins that she still wasn’t fond of. Efana had tried to apologise to Clarke, but the Commander refused to let her, knowing it had not been her fault. Clarke had also made sure to tell her to keep that from Wonkru, because they would not take kindly to the knowledge that she had been the first under Sheidheda’s influence.

The amount of people that wanted to pay respects to Abby was shocking. Even the Grounders, and she began to realise that they were doing so because they knew that Clarke had made a difficult decision.

Three-hundred and twenty one people. Of those, thirty-seven had been children under the age of fifteen. She spent longer with them, made sure to pay particular attention to the flowers that were picked and decorated their bodies.

When she finally found a moment alone, it was standing in the Church, in her throne room. It was empty, save for Seda, who was exhausted from her day out in the Village. Clarke moved to her seat, settled in it and looked out over her empty Council table. It had the maps and papers scattered across it, reminders that she had been too slow to save her people.

Clarke Griffin, of Skaikru, and then Louwoda Kliron Kru, and finally of Wonkru. Prisoner 319, Skaikru Ambassador, Fleimkepa. Mountain Slayer, Wanheda, Natblida. Commander, Heda. The Light Commander, Reina kom Heda.

All her titles, all her jobs and loyalties, and she was fed up of it. The scream was one of anguish, of her mind being torn apart and pieced back together so many times, her hands reaching for the table.

The anger overtook the ache in her bones, fuelled her with the energy to vent all her emotions. To think of the battle, and the people she had lost, and the decisions that she’d always had to make.

_The people around you die, Clarke._

_When you’re in charge, people die._

_Death follows you._

She knelt in the wreckage of what had been her throne room, staring at the overturned table and the broken chairs, the papers that scattered the floor and crumpled beneath her knees.

_You’ve killed more people than there are left alive._

She’d killed more people than anybody could ever imagine. Back in the Light City, with the lever in hand, she’d doomed the entire world to Praimfaya. With it, the panic and mass hysteria that killed thousands of people. Could she even estimate how many people she had killed?

_This is War, Clarke. People die._

At the end of it all, was there anything left of the Clarke she had been? Or had it all been taken over by this, the stain of death that seemed to hover over her?

Beyond the doors of the Church, out in the mourning Village, she could hear Wonkru chatter. Could smell the smoke, feel the warmth of the blazing inferno that was currently eating away at the evidence of her latest decision. Burning the dead, ending their suffering, the same pain that Clarke had caused.

They’d let her go, allowed her excuses of needing time to think. This was her thinking, digging her nails into her thighs until the pain ran black, bowing her head as she tried to push everything from her mind.

Kane refused to look at her. Bellamy and Murphy had kept their distance. All her friends walked around her like they were fearful that her disease was catchable.

Forcing her feet to obey, she rose up, moving to the window of the Church to look out across her Village. Just over nine-hundred people left in Wonkru, the only survivors left on the face of the earth, and they were under Clarke’s guardianship. It was her duty to protect them, to help them flourish in their new lands.

‘I am become death, destroyer of worlds.’

Clarke did not want to do this alone anymore. She hated the emptiness that came with solitude, didn’t want to have to carry the burden alone on her shoulders. It was why she’d let Murphy’s hand rest over hers as they pushed the button, why she’d let Bellamy pull the lever with her in Mount Weather.

Weakness, always.

Swallowing down her fear, the nausea at the smell of the fire, Clarke turned to the mirror and studied her reflection. She looked like a Commander, emotionless, like she hadn't just had to deal with a bigger burden than any of them could understand.

**

Murphy whistled a tune to himself, pausing to impart a little more wisdom to the people of Wonkru. To all those who would listen, he told the tale of the Commander to beat Sheidheda, noted that Octavia and Raven were doing the same. Like him, they knew Clarke would need a little more to keep her reign secure.

‘Queen of the Commanders.’ That was the name he told them, let it spread like wildfire as he moved through those that had gathered for the funeral.

His job was a simple one, and for that, he was thankful. He wasn’t the one that slept with the guilt.

**

Every step towards the fire took energy, every murmured greeting to those that called her name, a strain. Still, Clarke did not pause until there was nothing before her but the fire, the evidence of her mistake.

She was Clarke of Louwoda Kliron Kru, Commander of Wonkru.

 _‘And you’re not alone anymore_.’ She had not expected the company of the Commanders, but they were here to watch the fire, perhaps because they understood what it must like to be in charge. All of them, staring out at the fire, a quiet reminder that she wasn’t alone.

With their help, she could make Wonkru stronger again.

Clarke was about to turn back to the fire, when she spotted Bellamy’s gaze on her. A hesitant smile, his eyes flicking to the Commanders, then back to her.

He could see them still. Clarke opened her mouth to ask, watched as he reached for the back of his neck, tapped the skin once.

He’d not got rid of the Chip like Murphy and Octavia had. Why?

‘You know what they say, a problem shared…’ Bellamy offered out, as he took a step to her side. Another Flame, only this one was connected to her mind, gifted Bellamy the ability to see what Clarke could.

‘Is a problem halved.’ She finished, wondering why he’d done that for her. There was no hatred, no judgement for what she’d done. Just his smile, and the way he studied her like he was waiting for her to break.

Instead, she turned back to the flames, let her hand reach for his. Fingers entwined with hers, a warm hand that told her they were both alive.

 _‘Reina kom Heda_.’ Muttered through the people, a gentle squeeze of Bellamy’s hand in hers.

She wasn’t alone this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As y'all can see, there's now an end-chapter for this. The next two chapters will be follow-up epilogues of sorts, so is there anything in particular that you'd like to see?


	39. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's working for peace, Bellamy's settling, and Murphy needs a little love

Murphy sat back and watched as the fire flickered, listening to the chatter from the group. They were up a lot later than usual, Raven and Octavia bickering over the hottest available men in Wonkru, while Echo and Emori chatted away in the corner. Murphy sat in silence, occasionally looking to where Harper and Monty were curled up, then across to the others, before returning to the fire.

It had been three weeks since Sheidheda was defeated. In that time, Wonkru had begun to heal, under Clarke’s watch. The farm was expanded, homes pulled down and rebuilt in a new plan that she had sketched up. It would take a while, but with the skills that came from the Canadance Bunker, and Clarke’s powers of persuasion, they’d have a Village they could be proud of.

Jackson had become the Head Doctor of Wonkru, with a team of eight under his charge. Clarke refused to step foot in the infirmary since her Mom’s death, but it was understandable. It was the same reason why Yanna could no longer look Clarke in the eye, the pain of losing her child too fresh in her mind. With Podakru’s Council-member gone, Clarke had reassigned the job to Adrian, Joshua’s cousin, and the man that Octavia was growing closer to.

‘We should get Bellamy out here. And Clarke.’ It was a suggestion that was met with approval, Echo offering to go and get Clarke, while Octavia stood to go to Bellamy’s room.

‘Bellamy’s not in his room.’ Murphy spoke up, not bothering to look away from the fire. Confusion echoed on the faces of his friends, while Murphy wondered how none of them had noticed.

‘He sleeps in the nest with Clarke and the Panthers.’ That drew attention, just as he had expected. One of the most popular bets in Wonkru was how long it would take the Commander to realise that her heart lay with Bellamy, but she still seemed oblivious.

‘I’ll get them.’ Octavia stated, moving in the direction of the Church while Murphy went back to his daydreaming.

**

‘There, perfect!’ Clarke praised, watching as Osleya preened under her attention. The Panther then moved to the back, allowing the Commander to move on to her next Cub. Bellamy was propped up in the corner, reading a book whilst Clarke groomed and bonded with her Pride. It had become a regular thing, and, despite her fears, Bellamy hadn't left the nest after Sheidheda’s death.

‘You dote on them too much.’ Bellamy joked, flicking the page while his eyes darted up to meet hers. For a moment, Clarke forgot what she was supposed to be doing, found herself studying every inch of the man in front. The casualness that came between them was something she never understood, but enjoyed. Along with the fact that this was practically his room now, Clarke felt happy.

Safe. Definitely not alone, with six Panthers and Bellamy to keep her company. On the walls around the nest, sketches of the Village that Clarke had been working on, along with the drawing she’d made for Bellamy.

A knock at the door sounded, strange, because nobody disturbed her usually.

‘Clarke? Bellamy?’ She didn’t know why she felt worried when she realised that they had figured out they were sharing. It wasn’t a bad thing, Clarke was quite happy to have the comfort, made no attempt to hide that she relied on him.

Clarke went for the door, while Bellamy put his book down as the door opened to reveal Octavia.

‘We’re all out by the fire, fancy a late night drink?’ Clarke grinned, reaching for her boots while Bellamy groaned.

‘I’m on first-light watch duty.’ Octavia called him spoilsport, which Clarke echoed, accepting the hand that the younger Blake offered out and leaving Bellamy in the nest with the Panthers.

**

Efana moved through the Village, smiled when she spotted the Commander. Clarke was currently accompanying Kane in his lesson on the Shallow Valley History, the two of them working through the class. Soon, that would be her baby, raised in the new Village during peace-time. It was a nice thing to think about, and she paused for a moment to watch the lesson.

Clarke rose her head, grinning and excusing herself from the group to walk across. Efana took note of the healthy flush to her skin, the weight that was steadily being put back on, the way Clarke walked with more confidence. Three weeks, and the Queen of the Commanders had risen to a point nobody had ever expected.

‘Efana, how was the scan?’ Clarke’s fingers reached out, pausing to wait for Efana’s nod, before coming to the skin of her belly. Rounded, her Clan had been informed of the baby, and word spread quickly. This would be the first child to be born in Clarke’s reign, a very special thing to be honoured with. Combined with the fact that Clarke had kept her betrayal a secret…

‘Fine, I found out the gender…’ The Commander squealed, waited with baited breath for her announcement.

‘It’s a girl.’ Efana could have sworn Clarke was more excited than she was, the woman clapping and smiling down to the bump.

‘A baby girl.’ She breathed out, and Efana wondered how anyone could doubt how good-hearted Clarke was.

**

‘Adrian, could I have a word?’ Clarke inclined her head to Podakru, looking around the main reception room of their Clan, before turning back to the man. He nodded, rose from his chair and left his brother, following Clarke out of the door and into the Village.

‘Is there an issue, Reina?’

‘Not at all. I was just wondering if you’d mind taking guard duty tonight, with Octavia.’ She didn’t miss the slight blush, nor the way he quickly accepted the change. Once he’d gone back to his people, Clarke moved through the Village in search of the younger Blake, found her sparring with Echo. The two had actually grown quite close, both similar in their fighting techniques.

‘Octavia, I’ve put Adrian on Guard with you tonight.’ The Blake-sibling grinned, unashamed of the fact she was openly flirting with the man. Bellamy had done a whole lot of grumbling over that fact, along with judgemental glares that Clarke found hilarious.

‘Perfect, thank you Clarke!’ The one-armed hug was nice, Clarke nudging Octavia in the stomach and laughing when the girl mock-recoiled, acting hurt by the rejection.

Her next stop was to Monty and Raven’s work base, only to find the mechanic with goggles over her eyes as she bent over her desk. There were sparks from whatever she was doing, and Clarke edged around the desk to approach Monty.

‘Do I want to know?’

‘She’s trying to build a rail-connection up to the Northern border.’ It was where the main farming sector was, and if a rail connection could be built, it would save a lot of man-hours of walking. Clarke knew Raven was brilliant, but this was a whole new level of clever.

‘Will you tell her I stopped by? Oh, and I got you both a snack.’ She unveiled the sugared-peaches that had been made by the Cooks, watched Monty’s eyes widen as he reached out. They were very strictly rationed, but Clarke was given three a week. In truth, she usually passed them out to her friends rather than keeping them for herself.

‘So much better than algae.’ Monty mumbled, before his teeth sunk into the fruit. Clarke laughed, waving goodbye to him and leaving once more, skirting around the edge of the infirmary with the last fruit.

It wasn’t hard to find the slacker. He was up on the second-floor of the storage house, which was being built as part of Clarke’s new plans for the Village. The second floor wasn’t yet completed, gaps in the walls and the ceiling missing, but Murphy had grown fond of using the space to sunbathe. It was mostly to avoid duties, she figured, kicking his boots off of the chair he had them propped up on and taking a seat.

‘Reina.’ He grumbled, using a hand to block the sun.

Three weeks had done Clarke well, she knew that. With Murphy and Bellamy’s encouragement, Clarke had tried to push herself back into their group of friends. She’d taken to eating four small meals a day, while keeping up her hunting and training.

She hadn't forgotten the dead, or the blood that stained her hands from her past decisions. But if Wonkru wanted her as their Leader, which it seemed they did, then she could rise to that occasion.

‘Cockroach.’ She shot back, teasing, before procuring the last fruit. Murphy’s eyes widened, and she didn’t miss the flash of shock and confusion. Clarke may have issues accepting her worth, but Murphy was the exact same.

‘For me?’ He teased, hiding his confusion, and Clarke smiled softly.

‘For helping me through these past weeks.’ For helping Bellamy drag her out of the nest of the third day after the battle, all the way to the showers, and turning the water on freezing until she got up and started to fight. For persevering until Clarke would sit at meals with them, and encouraging her to accept the title of Reina kom Heda.

‘All in a day’s work, Princess.’ Murphy took the fruit, taking a bite and letting his eyes shut as he savoured the taste.

‘This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’ He remarked, while Clarke thought about making a joke. She held it back, instead looking up to the skies.

‘Don’t get used to it.’ She responded, even though they both knew that Clarke would share the fruit with the rest of them for as long as she got them. Murphy was watching her, studying, and she expected the question long before it came.

‘The symptoms?’ Clarke continued to study the sky, estimated that it would rain this evening. She’d have Brell put out a warning, she decided.

‘Lessened. Sheidheda really was pulling me apart.’ The attempt to change the topic didn’t work, Murphy’s hand dropping to his lap with the fruit following.

‘You’re still…’

‘Don’t. We’re here. Safe, at peace.’ She couldn’t handle that word, the one he’d been about to say. Murphy paused, looking ready to argue, before deciding against it. After all, Clarke was right. The sickness had lessened to the point where it barely bothered her, no more than a faint gnawing worry.

‘If you die before me, Clarke, I’m going to be really mad.’ She laughed, reaching for his hand and taking it, squeezing. Murphy didn’t respond, she hadn't expected him to, but Clarke would make him get used to affection.

‘You love me really, Murphy.’ She teased, standing up and leaving him with his fruit.

**

The rain put a dampener on the evening, Clarke moving through the Village and clearing up and checking everyone was back home safely. It took a while to move to each of the Clan’s houses, and by the time she was heading back to the Church, she was ready to drop into bed.

‘Should I even ask what you’re doing?’ Clarke asked, watching as Bellamy turned away from the Well. With the chip in the back of his head, Clarke had insisted that he start taking the vitamin-healing mix that she’d made back when she’d first experimented on her blood. It was just to ensure that he didn’t reject the Chip, that his body kept healthy.

It had the side-effect of increasing his tolerance to the rain, and so Clarke now had company while the rain lashed down around them.

‘I was suggesting that Osleya take a bath. She stinks.’ The Panther growled from somewhere behind him, and Clarke peered around the Well to find her Cub a mess. Twigs and leaves in her coat, her muzzle stained red, and it didn’t take a genius to work out where Bellamy and her Pride had gone during the afternoon.

‘You went hunting.’ She concluded, amused, and Bellamy tried his best to look innocent. Then he grinned, meeting her gaze with that confident look that never failed to make her feel… safe. Loved.

‘Caught a deer for tomorrow’s breakfast.’ He sounded so proud of himself, so Clarke reached to ruffle his hair, laughing when the water stuck to the ends and went spraying out.

‘Now we’re both soaked, and I’m not letting you in the nest like that.’ Clarke stated firmly, trying to do her best “don’t mess with me” voice, only for Bellamy to smirk. It was filled with mischief, the cocky attitude that she remembered from the Bellamy that first landed on the ground.

They could finally act their age once more, with Wonkru at peace.

‘I know that look… whatever you’re planning… Bellamy!’ She was cut off when he scooped her up in one smooth movement, straight over his shoulder like she weighed nothing (which she knew was false, she’d been putting on some weight with her regular meals).

‘Put me down!’ She protested, knowing that some of Wonkru would probably be watching. Then again, this was hardly a new thing. They always teased each other, Clarke having great fun in the fact she could out-manoeuvre him in their sparring sessions, whilst Bellamy liked to make fun of her.

‘Sorry, Princess, no can do.’ He mocked, moving up the steps and into the Church, before heading in the opposite direction to the Nest and towards the shower-block.

Clarke was unimpressed to be dumped under the freezing water, even if they’d just come out of the rain. Bellamy was laughing, looking amused as he sauntered over to the men’s side, while Clarke wondered why her stomach was twisting into knots.

**

Bellamy woke to the sound of whimpers, not needing long to figure out that Clarke was having a bad dream. They happened quite often, even if Clarke was happy during the day, but this one seemed worse than most. Her hands were tearing at her shirt, legs kicking out while her face twisted in pain, presumably a dream about Praimfaya.

‘Out.’ He murmured to the Pride, the six Panthers more than happy to obey. The first couple of times, they’d stayed to make sure that Bellamy could actually look after Clarke. Now, they trusted that he’d be able to help.

He moved across the space that they kept between them when sleeping, reached to gently rock Clarke’s shoulder until her eyes were open, body shooting upwards.

When this happened, the Flame usually activated, presumably because Clarke’s body was telling it they were in danger. Sure enough, Bellamy heard the familiar sound of the voices of the Commanders, the undeniable presence of the people that remained inside Clarke’s mind. They fell silent the moment Clarke was awake enough to recognise him, moving forward to hug him.

This was normal, and once Clarke’s breathing had soothed back down, they moved back to their positions in the nest. This pattern was one that Bellamy both adored and despised, knowing that it wasn’t quite as close as he wanted to be, but it was as much as Clarke was ready for.

Just as Bellamy was about to fall asleep, Clarke rolled over towards him, nudging under his arm and tucking her head against his chest. He didn’t question what she’d seen in the nightmare, just rested his hand on her lower back and let his fingertips trace the bare skin.

‘Sleep, Clarke.’ He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The only response he got was another wiggle, Clarke kicking a leg between his and then sighing, a hand resting over his heart.

Safe.


	40. Seasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's found her role

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone for the love and support this fic has got, enjoy the last chapter!

Clarke woke to heat. It wasn’t unusual, she slept with a pile of Panthers after all, but this was the heat of a human. She let her eyes open first, studied her surroundings and fought the smile that came when she saw Bellamy. He was lying on his back, mouth slightly open as he snored, hair a mess and his limbs spread out like a starfish.

It was probably a little bit her fault, considering she was somehow slumped over him, with her head tucked to his chest and her legs on either side of one of his thighs. It should have been too much, Clarke should have been rolling away, but somehow she found herself happy.

Once she’d figured out she didn’t want to move away, Clarke had to come to the conclusion that her feelings for Bellamy had far surpassed the friendship she’d been sticking to. She wasn’t sure when the line had blurred, when she’d stopped keeping up the barrier that was supposed to keep him safe.

She let her fingers wander over his chest, tracing the slight dusting of hair that she found. How long had they known each other? Clarke knew almost everything about Bellamy, and now they shared a chip in their mind, which allowed him the ability to see the Commanders. He’d done that for her, just like he’d spent the past weeks trying to get her back to the old Clarke.

‘Mornin’ Princess.’ Clarke jumped, not realising that she’d woken him at some point, watched as Bellamy stretched out. He didn’t move away either, in fact wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her in place.

‘Morning.’ She greeted, wondering if they should be getting up to eat the deer he’d caught. It was Murphy’s turn to get breakfast, which meant a late start for all of them, considering he liked to spend his mornings with Emori.

She realised she was still circling his chest, blushed as she tried to draw her hand back, only for him to catch it.

‘S’okay, feels nice.’ So, whatever she was feeling, Bellamy was feeling it as well. Clarke realised that maybe he’d been waiting for her to notice, considering all the things she now looked back over. From the moment Efana mentioned the word _hod_ , love, Clarke figured she should have seen what was happening.

She didn’t want to fight it. It came as a shock, considering her history with lovers.

Bellamy was watching her, waiting for her, like always. Ready to support whatever decision she made, and Clarke realised how slow she’d been to pick up on this. It was almost enough to make her laugh, but she was busy studying the way her skin ran over Bellamy’s.

Deciding to take a risk, she let her hand wander further. Down his breastbone, skirting over his ribs and lingering over the marks she found, scars that she could place. All the while, Bellamy continued to rub his thumb over her hip, where her shirt had lifted enough so that it could touch bare skin. When she reached his waist, she tracked back across his stomach, to the dusting of hair that led down to his boxers.

‘Clarke.’ That wasn’t how he usually said her name, this was filled with a warning, a slight longing that Clarke understood. It was strange, how quickly she began to recognise the feeling in her stomach, glancing up and finding his eyes on her, the pupil rapidly expanding over the brown.

‘Bellamy.’ She responded, before Bellamy was moving, rolling them back into the furs until she was settled under him. His thigh stayed between hers, hands holding her gently like he feared her reaction.

‘Clarke.’ He repeated, waiting for her to make the decision, and Clarke paused for only the slightest moment. Then, with her mind made up, she offered him a smile.

‘Bellamy.’ This time, when she spoke his name, it was an invite. He took it as intended, slowly lowered his head to hers, lips brushing lightly over her own. Not quite a kiss, a mere ghosting of skin, and Clarke shuddered. She let her fingers move to his hair, tangling into the curls and holding him steady.

It was warm, steady breathing against hers, waiting for one of them to dare. In the end, it was Clarke that broached the remaining distance, finally pressing her lips to his. Soft, he yielded under her touch and let her lead, only deepening the kiss when she gave a tug on his hair.

When they broke apart, Bellamy’s grin was brighter than she’d ever seen it, and Clarke returned the smile.

‘Breakfast?’ He asked, and she laughed.

**

Murphy could tell that something had changed between Clarke and Bellamy, right from the moment they sat to eat breakfast. The others were still grumbling that he’d been late to wake up, although Octavia didn’t seem to mind, having spent the evening with her new beau.

Clarke nudged into Bellamy’s shoulder, the two pressed from shoulders to feet as they sat side-by-side. He watched the way they ducked their heads to talk, the murmured whispers and the way Bellamy couldn’t fight the grin on his face.

Something had changed. Clarke had finally realised Bellamy’s intentions, and the two had taken a step over the normal comfort. About time, he thought, reaching to steal some of the deer from Emori’s plate. She quirked an eyebrow at him, probably warning him that she’d stab his fingers the next time, but he paid her no mind.

Today was a day to celebrate.

**

Clarke regarded their new change in relationship in much the same way as she viewed Wonkru. It would take time, and Bellamy was more than happy to give it to her. After all, she had priorities at the moment, to recover from the damage done by Sheidheda and take them through the winter months.

Rather than Bellamy becoming annoyed at the slowness that she required, he stepped up to her side to assist. When she was in her Council meetings, he would take over the new building plans of the Shallow Valley. If she needed to sort out a dispute that had arisen, Bellamy would take over the slack from her work, helping balance it out.

Surprisingly, Wonkru accepted him as Clarke’s second, even if Brell still officially held the title. They would incline their head to Bellamy as he walked through the Village, obeyed him like they would with Clarke. The change in their relationship was picked up on by the others, Octavia winking in Clarke’s direction like she’d known.

Maybe they had. Clarke was happy with the change, to wake up in Bellamy’s arms, even if she wasn’t quite ready to take it to the next stage. Soft kisses, murmured words when they were curled up together, it felt like she was finally settled.

Winter came and went, and as Spring approached, Clarke felt the final ache in her bones slide away. She knew it was only a matter of time before it returned, and as she grew older it would, but for now, Clarke didn’t have to worry.

The next good news came with Osleya, when Clarke finally noticed the slight bump in her stomach. She ran out to grab Bellamy, who was just as excited, the two of them spending the afternoon feeding Osleya extra scraps.

‘More Panthers.’ Clarke had said, a dreamy expression on her face, and Bellamy had laughed.

**

As Spring turned to Summer, Clarke watched the new Capital building begin to grow upwards. The expansion of the farming sector meant that they could support a dramatic increase in population, good, because that was exactly what was beginning to happen. After Sheidheda’s defeat four months ago, a number of women had been turning up at the infirmary requiring ultrasound scans, much to Clarke’s delight.

A new generation.

Efana was days away from giving birth, and Clarke had been invited to witness the birth. She hadn't been too keen on the idea, until Efana promised she’d have her baby in the Clan house, rather than the infirmary. She still didn’t go in the building, made Bellamy complete all her duties that required her in there.

‘Clarke!’ Speak of the devil, or in this case, Efana. She came wobbling across, one hand on her swollen belly, and Clarke smiled warmly.

‘Efana, wow. How’s the baby?’ She was supposed to be going to the new Church, Bellamy wanted her opinion on the new design, as did Joshua.

‘Fine, kicking like crazy. I just wanted to ask… about a name for her.’ Clarke halted, realised that quite a few of the Wonkru citizens were listening in.

 _‘The first reign-born child is usually named by the Commander.’_ The voice wasn’t unwelcome, although she couldn’t figure out who had spoken. No doubt Bellamy was now confused, having heard the same voice, even if he wasn’t anywhere near her.

What to name the first child of her new reign?

‘Would you mind if I thought about it?’ Efana was quick to agree, stating she obviously had until the baby was born, and Clarke headed off with a number of names buzzing in her head.

**

‘Up! Up, c’mon Clarke.’ She grumbled, let Octavia drag her from the nest and Bellamy’s warm arms, through the Village and in the direction of Efana’s Clan. Most of the men had decided standing outside was the best way to avoid the cries, Clarke brushing past them as she made her way into the building.

A number of women were waiting outside Efana’s room, with different gifts that Clarke knew were tradition in Grounder ceremonies. It was why she had grabbed the present she’d wrapped, as Octavia pulled her from the Church.

Inside the room, there were four people other than Efana. Two of them were the newly-trained medics, hovering either side of Efana as Jackson took the lead. The fourth woman was a Clan member, who scurried away to make room for Clarke.

Clarke knew how long labour could take, was quite happy to offer out her hand and listen to the bones protest as Efana crunched them down.

At first light, just as the sun began to streak through the Village, Efana’s baby was born. Clarke watched as the child was wrapped and weighed, before one of the medics cleaned her quickly.

‘Reina.’ Clarke rose her head, found the baby being offered to her, considering Efana was still being cleaned up and waiting for the afterbirth.

The first child of her reign, and she was gorgeous. Tiny little hands, a scrunched up face that Clarke cooed over as she cradled the baby.

‘Have you thought of a name?’ Efana asked, being cleaned up and dressed into a new nightgown, the sheets stripped out from under her. Clarke paused, looking between the Mom and baby, before nodding.

‘Laelynn. It means…’

‘Flower of hope.’ Efana finished, Clarke nodding.

‘It’s perfect.’ The Mother offered, the brightest smile on her face as tears built in her eyes.

‘She’s perfect.’ Clarke handed the baby across to her Mother, before reaching for the present.

‘A gift, for you. I’ll leave you two to bond.’

**

‘The name’s cute.’ Bellamy commented, watching as the Village crowded around the baby and her Mom. It was a beautiful thing to see, but mostly because Clarke looked happy. With Osleya expecting Cubs, and the new Church stretching up towards the sky, it was looking to be a good summer.

‘She’s a cute baby.’ Clarke provided, chewing on her food as she studied the people of Wonkru. They should probably have been working, or trying to distract the villagers from the new baby, but Bellamy presumed Clarke was happy to let them have the day off.

‘Have you seen Octavia?’ He’d seen her when she’d walked into their room, without knocking, to drag Clarke from her bed for the birth of Laelynn.

‘She went with Adrian.’ Bellamy scowled, not entirely sure if he liked the man that Octavia had picked. He was trying to work into Bellamy’s good-books, much to Clarke’s amusement, but he still didn’t think the man was good enough for his baby sister.

‘Oh stop it, he’s a good match for her.’ Clarke protested, ruffling his hair with the easy affection that now settled between them.

Clarke had changed, in the year since they had returned to the ground. More confident, brighter, easier with her affection. Peacetime suited her, as did the blue streaks that were back in her hair.

‘I still don’t like him.’ He grumbled back, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

‘That would be like Octavia disapproving of me.’ Clarke shot back, and Bellamy snorted. The two of them hadn't been close before Praimfaya, but now, he rarely saw them apart. Along with Raven, Echo, Emori and Harper, the six of them caused chaos wherever they went. Bellamy supposed he should be thankful for it, but he knew that they caused mischief when teamed up.

He suspected that was why Murphy was always wary of them.

Speaking of, Murphy was wandering in this direction, his usual carefree attitude on display as he reached them.

‘Clarke, you wanted to see me?’ Bellamy watched as his girlfriend (he still couldn’t quite believe he could use the term) smiled, putting down her empty plate and standing up.

‘Yep, I’ve got a new assignment for you.’ Their friendship was the oddest thing, a combination of Clarke doting on Murphy, while he tried to get away with doing as little as possible.

If he was wary of the mischief Clarke could get up to with Octavia, this was worse. Somehow, Team Cockroach (as they’d labelled themselves) had the ability to do a lot more damage.

Like last week, when Bellamy had found Clarke and Murphy trying to sneak into the fruit supplies to steal peaches. He was supposed to be on Guard, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to scold the both of them.

Especially not when he found the two of them listening to one of Kane’s lessons later, distributing fruit between the children.

**

‘Are you sure?’ Murphy questioned, brandishing the blade dangerously.

‘Yes. Although, could you give me a moment?’ The man nodded, understanding what she needed to do, and Clarke turned to the empty room.

Screwing her eyes shut, she focused on her connection to the Flame, pulling on the energy before she heard a familiar voice.

 _‘Clarke._ ’ Lexa was dressed casually, her hair around her shoulders and a sad smile on her face, like she knew what Clarke was about to do.

‘Lexa.’ The thing about the Flame, was that her connection to it was like her connection to Bellamy. He’d know that she’d summoned Lexa, might even be able to faintly pick up on the words said.

 _‘You look well._ ’ They hadn't seen each other since the night that Clarke defeated Sheidheda, with the help of the Commanders.

‘I am. Happy. Settled.’

 _‘I told you, you were born to be a Leader. A Commander.’_ Lexa stepped towards her, Clarke closing the distance and reaching for her. The Flame struggled with her demand, making Lexa solid enough to hold her was something that should be reserved for her unconscious mind, but she needed this moment.

The hug lasted for a couple of moments, before Clarke pulled back.

‘You know why I’m here.’

 _‘You don’t need to say it, Clarke. I’ll still be here, waiting for you.’_ This was what she wanted, Clarke reminded herself. She cradled Lexa’s face for a moment, before smiling.

‘May we meet again.’ Lexa echoed the sentiment, understanding what Clarke couldn’t say, before they stepped apart.

When Lexa vanished, Clarke heard the words ricochet through her mind, the other Commanders agreeing to the phrase.

It was time. Murphy stepped forward, the knife in hand, and Clarke moved the hair from the back of her neck so he could reach the skin. It didn’t hurt as much as she expected, a slight sting as the Flame was removed, and Clarke felt the tether between them break.

Lexa was gone. The Commanders were gone.

She turned to Murphy, found him holding the Flame in his hand, covered in the black blood that made her able to host it.

‘Whenever you’re ready, Reina.’ He remarked, and Clarke reached out, settled it in her palm.

All it would take was her tightening her hold, cracking it. She let her fingers tighten, hand shaking slightly as Clarke got ready to say goodbye.

Without the Flame, Clarke would be a Commander in her own right. She would no longer be able to speak to Lexa and the others, to ask for their advice.

Clarke could tell she was crying, focused on tightening her fist slightly more. One last push, and the Flame would crack.

Murphy was hesitant when he wrapped his arms around her, offering the comfort she needed, and Clarke dived into the hug. With her hands around his waist, she got ready to splinter the Flame, when the door to the Church opened.

‘Reina!’ Murphy shot back, hands down at his sides like he’d deny ever hugging her, while Clarke hid the Flame from sight.

‘Brell? What’s wrong?’ The Second in Command looked terrified, eyes wide and her chest heaving, fingers tightened around her sword.

‘There’s a spaceship in the Valley.’ Clarke halted, looking to Murphy, then back to Brell.

‘A ship?’

‘A transport ship.’ Brell was gone a second later, back out of the door, and Clarke stared down to the Flame.

‘Do it.’ She finally stated, caving in yet again. Murphy nodded, snatching the Flame from her grip and uttering the words to activate it.

She’d need the Flame, if there was another threat on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila ;)


End file.
